Sitting naked at the dresser, slowly moisturizing my skin, I turn and stare at you lying awkwardly prostrate, the sheets barely covering your not so perfect ass, and I wonder what it is I am doing in this room. I slip into one of your shirts that make me look smaller than I am, and I am small. Settling back on my side of the bed, though calling it my side feels weird…did it not become my side just weeks ago?
I open my Bible to read….
Wives submit….submit…to your…husbands?
I close it and sigh. You rouse, turn around and frown. Then you smile, lift your torso up by your elbows and lean over to kiss me. You ate late last night and forgot to brush your teeth. Why do you kiss me? Yet my body responds.
You slip out to the bathroom, and I bring my knees up to hug them, then I see the subtle bruising and remember all of last night and, last, last night and I just…
Submit….submit…to you…my husband?
You come back in, smelling of the shampoo meant for my hair. Can you not read? But the smell of almonds and cucumber and honey on your skin reminds me of me, left alone with the smell of my hair and I…You…why are you in our bed?
You take the Book from me, pull me down onto my back and tower me…what day is it? Where are we? Slowly, slowly, losing my mind…and me…
Then I wake!
To almonds….and cucumber…and honey
Are you dead or alive….my husband?
What with these dreams?