Incubus by Debris

I am moving. I can see something below me. I can see your
warm body beneath your duvet, your breathing slow and
regular, your eyelids moving as you dream slo-mo dreams and
flying dreams and dreams that switch from dimension to dimension.

Your lips are slightly parted. I am hovering above you
(with a carrier bag full of shopping). I am going to move
down until my body covers yours but not heavily, hardly
touching. I am going to kiss you.

My carrier bag rustles (is that a french stick or am I just
pleased to see you?), and suddenly, your husband stirs and
says, "Mm, what? Wha ....? Ohhhh ...." And he slips back into deep

sleep. I have dropped a pot of natural set yogurt and your husband
has thrown his arm over it! How can I get it back? If I
just tease it out he will think it is you and let me have
it. He opens his eyes! He sees me and yet he does not. He
closes his eyes. I decide I have risked enough for one
night and I take a final look at you lying there and I rise up.

I'm out in the night and rising above the houses. Gosh, its cold out here.

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