My room is a kingdom and we are nestled together under a sea of blankets. You whisper of your longing for me in hushed tones in the deep darkness and the early morn. I contaminate you you say, and so you feel you have to cut me out of bits and pieces of you so that you may remain intact. A contradiction if I ever heard one.
I am but silver moonlight in your arms. I linger on the thought of all your kisses and marvel at the way I map out my days' woes over your skin. You are knightly and I am damsel wrought. I chase away sleep to spend an hour of time with your eyes and your hands and your soft calming voice. I forsake the grey morning like anyone would the end of a great dream and wake up to you weaving stories of how we shall inhabit the earth of the kingdom that is now my room for the last time. We shall only ever depart for supplies and other resources that are scarcely here found. The harsh reality of what is about to occur as I look at my packed bags waiting to be picked up should hurt but I manage to ignore it and indulge in one more minute for your sake. Nothing has ever brought me more joy that to know of your happiness.
You are a legend to these walls, my new found king. Only wearing your bare skin, brandishing your heart. Kisses and such sweet things secondary to that look you get in your eyes. Perhaps we are still asleep and I only dream of you. My room serves as the last place that you and I shall say we ever saw before the light came and took us. Before we had to move out and go to work and feed our families.I dared not take one last look incase I turned to salt, for this was a leaving without a return.