THE PROFILE

by Mik

He's asleep in my bed. I don't sleep in my bed, but there he is. He looks out of place, too long, too broad, but he doesn't look foolish.

Shouldn't he? Middle-aged, balding, glasses pushed up his endless brow, wearing nothing but a white undershirt that looks as if it was made to be part of his flesh, white briefs that barely contain his flesh. His hands arranged over the cover of the book, split open on his breast. Bare feet almost hanging over the end.

He should look foolish. He looks...wonderful.

He's asleep in MY bed.

- END -