Notes to Future Husband – #7

by cynthiarendon

Because he will love camping as much as I do.

via flickr

View From The Tent
The view from the tent calls our names.

Don’t you understand? It’s time to turn in.

I don’t have the patience, the iron will to separate myself from the desire to simply lie with you. And really, I apologize for my hurry, but the cold is coming and the sun is setting.

It’s funny, right? How all across the nation, seemingly far and wide away, many roam in more than enough light, while here we are with our only light source but minutes away from its daily game of peek-a-boo.

We’re finally snug as a bug in a rug, as you always say. Face-to face, chest-to-chest, knees-to-thighs . . . I am much shorter than you, after all.

The traces of sweet juice and alcohol on our breaths is prevalent, and luckily our eyelids are anything but heavy.

There’s no need to rise to turn off the lights,
the stars will dim as we please.

There will be no dreams tonight to interrupt.

There’s no need to turn off the alarm before it sounds,
for the birds will sing for us to rise when they feel it befitting.

My gaze moves from your handsome face to the view from the tent — a scene of dark greenery and flora bathed in moonlight, waltzing in the shiver-inducing breeze.

Both hold me in a trance, and no, I don’t stand a chance. For you are here with me, ripping at the seams with vivid stories, clever jokes, and oh so much warmth.

Suddenly my gaze coasts upward, to the supporting center pole of our house for the night. Frost himself says that is the “pinnacle of heavenward.”

And it’s true, can we get higher than this? Or perhaps, it is that we’re falling? Will I hit the ground and disappear?

No, you will open up your eyes, and I will be here.

Let’s pretend the morning is ages away. It is then, in the darkness, that you will see what I’ve known all along. So stay awake with me, please?

There’s no need to rise to turn off the lights,
the stars will dim as we please.

There will be no dreams tonight to interrupt.

There’s no need to turn off the alarm before it sounds,
for the birds will sing for us to rise when they feel it befitting.

Yours,

Cynthia

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