At first it was only fleeting glances, me and 5am making eyes at each other.
Now, though, I’m standing before her.
She is lean and tall and tall and lean. It’s dark and quiet and we are alone. It is, after all, 5am.
My belly feels emptied out and my limbs feel hollow for longing.
She is lean and tall and tall and lean.
Looking across at her and she looking across at me, I ask if it’s okay if I kiss her. She says it’s okay.
I take my hand and lay it on her chest and we are awkward as all hell, but I don’t mind because there’s a thrill in her skin and a song under mine. Her neck is soft and I push my hand up into her hair. Sunrise is peaking up over some hill, but I can only feel it in the unblueing of her skin, the slight gold returning to her flesh, I lean towards her and she is lean and tall and tall and lean.
Me and 5am we take the hour to breathe in each others mouths, inhaling the slight last night of each other, the new dawn of each other. We stand still in the middle of the room, there is no other sound but us breathing, our mouths on each other, our hands at each others throats, and then our breasts.
And she is lean and tall and tall and lean.
eleanor j jackson 