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.