Late

There are cd's and dvd's piled up, gently tippling beside me.
I write a few emails hoping my schedule falls in accordingly.
A couple of pints and my feet are worn raw, a massive bruise on my left hip, can't move my neck because of lastnight's performance.
The deadline for my report has been missed, but I comment on a video posted on facebook.

I think I have never been happier.

I look out the window and notice the pub lights turn off, get up, tip toe across scattered papers on the floor. I'll rearrange them tomorrow.

Slowly I walk into the bathroom, splash a sip of water on my face, I am too lazy to properly scrub. I miss a tiny speckle of mascara left under my right eyelid.

Flick off the light in the hall and stand still. One beat.
Feel my way in the darkness, slide into bed.

I want you to be there.