Work Text:
conversation drifts around us,
reduced to background noise,
just a mixer in the alcoholic air,
as evening fades to night,
a schedule designed for convenience,
to circumvent their prying eyes,
but it left me quietly grieving
that i may only fall asleep with you
every third night,
those nights arrived so slowly,
the intervening hours stretching long and far,
but illuminating ahead like a floodlight,
steadfast, anticipatory,
was every third night,
when at long last we succumb to temptation,
release long held beliefs of what is wrong or right,
i savour your kisses, your hands on me,
knowing i only get to feel you
every third night,
when this highland season ends
it will be replaced with a whole new life,
and i will be privately mourning
those precious cyclic nights,
within a retrospective glance upon this spell,
we will laugh to ourselves
and recite “it was a different time”,
or, perhaps, indulging a wondering mind,
we might consider if our love would still be confined
to every third night.