“Sleep, my Beloved.”

Yep. You guessed it.

Another poem.

He curls up here beside me,
pressed arm against arm,
leg against leg
–I feel safe, relaxed;
comforted.

Snuggled against my warm beloved,
I feel his every breath
–I can sense the flicker of each thought
as it brushes his mind.

With extreme reluctance I move
to arise and meet the morning,
but his arms tighten,
as a vise,
 holding me to him as he sleeps.

The subtle ways he tells me
he loves me
–even while unconscious–
warm my heart to him,
and each night another part of my soul
is placed in the palm of his hand
to do with what he wishes.

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