Sunday (Monday?) mornings

Sunday morning rain is falling
Steal some covers share some skin
Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable
You twist to fit the mold that I am in

I remember those days when I had Mondays off, and my boyfriend skips work so we could grab a good movie, food for the whole day, one liter of juice, and mostly snuggle from the moment my mom steps out of the house until she comes back sometime after dusk.

We had the house to ourselves, the bathroom especially, and we don't have a care for the world then.

My mom never suspected us, because what she knows is that my boyfriend has work every Mondays and when she arrives, the house is clean, the garden watered, and food is ready for dinner.

The rain was our friend then. Oh how the rain muffles my screams, and the sound of x-rated shows we used to really love to watch.

During those days, our dreams were built, and we had plenty of time to talk about our future. Even for a few hours, we forgot about our problems. Except the worry that we can actually get caught.

What I really miss was the fact that I was able to cook for him then. What he misses most, I think, was the fact that he get to see me in loose, comfy house clothes. Something that could not get in the way of him touching every part of me, and that which he could easily take off.