NIGHTSTAND (3/12/99)

by Mik

As I come out of the bathroom, you're already asleep, but your arms are stretched out across the bed to invite me in, offer me safe harbor.

There's a contented smile still playing around your lips, as if all is right with the world. I have to smile back. Tonight, all is right with the universe.

As I reach to set the alarm clock, I casually inventory your bedside table. The usual lot; your gun, your wallet, your watch, your badge.

But there are a few new things tonight; a red rosebud, a few grains of rice, a jeweler's box. Empty. The ring once nestled there is now on my finger.

With a simple circle of gold, you branded me tonight, marked me as your own. Proclaimed to the world that I

belong to you. You did it proudly.

This symbolism, this gesture, moved me more than I can ever tell you. I've never belonged to anyone. But now, I belong. To you.

As I slip into bed beside you, roll into your embrace, my smile becomes smug. For, among my wallet, badge and rosebud, there's another small black, velvet box on my nightstand. Empty.

- END -