Between sleeping and waking, I lie, in your arms
Warm, comfortable, langourous.
Your body, curled around mine, my curves fitted beautifully to your hollows, skin against skin.
Your arm resting across my rib-cage, and your hand cupping my breast, not pressing or caressing, just cradling and there.
Your breath and mine in unison, deep, steady and even
Lassitude lying over me like a blanket as I drift toward dreams, and oblivion moves forward to embrace me.
I'm safe here.