school bus yellow dress.

I woke up on your couch alone to that movie that I've seen already but didn't like with my school bus yellow dress revealing more of my thighs than made me comfortable, the bottom hem having shifted in my sleep, and I remembered going to sleep wrapped comfortably in the heat of your body, except now I was alone, and then I also vaguely recalled you getting up and promising me that you would be right back before I drifted back away from wakefulness, but I didn't remember when that was, and the clock on the far wall said that it was nearly 2 AM now, but the music and the light were on in the other room, so I got up from the couch, pulling my school bus yellow dress down to keep from flashing nobody, since nobody was there, and I tread softly to the doorway that made the entrance to the room that was the source of the light and the music, and I saw you there, your back to me, facing your laptop on the card table and writing, and I hated to disturb you when you were working, but I did want you and your attention, so I knocked only lightly on the door and leaned sleepily against the doorframe, hoping that my drowsiness would endear you to me and make you forgive me for interrupting, and you turned, looking guilty for having abandoned me on the couch, claiming insomnia and making a joke in reference to a tiny detail that I told you once about my childhood, showing me that you do listen to me, but then you took me gently in your arms and told me about the song you were writing about my school bus yellow dress, and I was happy.