Most Comfortable
Times like this I'd search the bed for her.
To throw my arm around her.
Kiss her in mid sleep.
The comfort of warm blankets.
Knowing that shes that warm lump, kept warm between two sheets, a blanket, and my warmth.
My arm becoming heavier by the moment.
Some nights she'll turn to me.
My arms forming a slight bend curving behind her, her arms stretched underneath mine.
Before losing total consciousness,
We'd hold each other in our arms before waking up, bodies spread everywhere.
Her leg draped over me.
Our bodies dead to the world.
At times like this we depended on the weight of each other,
To fill the gasp of what made us most comfortable
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