gets cold, I am driving to his house with the heat on at 6:30 in the morning
. I am wearing his thick fleece shirt, and looking forward to crawling into bed
next to him.
I knock on his window
and see the blinds move, he shuffles out of bed in a long flannel shirt and opens the back door
for me. I hurry into his bedroom and out of my clothes to bask in the warmth that his body has left behind
in the bed. He crawls in after me and arranges the covers
around us, tidying our nest. We tangle our limbs around each other
and smell each other's hair. He nudges around as he descends back into a slumber, and I drowsily, happily, reflect on this man beside me
. He reaches for me and holds me close, his right sideburn
brushing against my forehead
. In a cozy and poetic wash of love, these things are threads
of perfect, woven into a man.