Tomorrow, at dawn, when the concrete warms up, I will return. You see, I know you’re waiting for me. So, I won’t make a sound as I insert the key into the door and turn the lock. I’ll take off my shoes to avoid any noise from heels. I’ll muffle the hum of the refrigerator and the dull sound of its closing before quenching my thirst with cool sparkling water. Then, staggering with grace, I’ll gently crack open the door to the bedroom and watch you sleep.
I’ll listen to the gentle sound of your slowed breathing from restful slumber. I’ll inhale the musky scent of your skin floating in the warm air. Fear not, I’ll only snuggle up against you tenderly, against your back, my body fitting perfectly with yours, a seamless embrace in stillness. And then, I’ll drift off to sleep, realizing a truth often forgotten: a home is first and foremost a source of warmth and security.
Fully dressed ascending a staircase (2023)
Mixed techniques on canvas