Simple Morning Thought Train Freefall.

Eyes open, it's light.
Time? still time for sleep... I'm not going back to sleep.
turn
He's here.
We fucked last night
oh did we ever fuck last night.
He's still sleeping
nope he's awake...  feign oblivious, turn back over.
arms around me arms around me arms around me
that's nice
this is nice.
I could do this forever.
Not allowed.
"goodmorning" he says
and suddenly I'm shy.
he's hard and I'm shy. OK.
we are not going to fuck this morning.
turn
His eyes are a cool shade of blue-y green, I think it's called aquamarine.
Does he know what colour mine are?
he says something funny
I laugh
I say something funny
His eye crinkles are my favorite thing. And his freckles
And his brain.
I want to climb inside his head and make a home there, have some tea, read a book.
I love books.
I wish I didn't have to work, I would read all day.
I love him
No I don't.
We don't get attached. 
What looks, smells, tastes, feels, sounds, and acts like a relationship, but isn't?
this.
I love it
I hate it.
there will be no white picket fence and offspring in this future.
No sir.
Am I ever on his mind?
I'm observing the ceiling, 
Stop thinking

I need an "off" switch for my brain.

Eye contact is hard sometimes.
He's looking at me.
Studying my features?
Fantasizing?
wondering what I'm thinking?
What am I thinking?
I'm thinking I want more
I'm thinking I want less
I'm thinking about his legs wrapped around mine
and mine wrapped around his body
squeeze.
I'm thinking I want to tell him a secret.
"Sometimes when I'm at work, I walk over to the bread section, pick up a loaf of cinnamon raisin bread, and smell it for a few seconds"
Why did I say that?
He thinks I'm weird.
I don't mind.
He don't mind.
Off he goes, up, down, out
silence.
utopia.