the deep of night

My eyes drift open, slowly, a vague mist of dream swirls in my mind, slumber clinging, like silky webs. Darkness surrounds me, light from the street lamp barely shimmers through the window. It is the deep early hours of the morning, filled with that dense night-time silence, a slumbering house. Quiet and mysterious. Rain gently patters outside, soft snoring rises to my ears from the dog curled next to the bed. We are in a cocoon, nestled safely inside, buffeted by darkness.

I feel the weight of his arm across my waist, the warmth of his body tucked in close against my back, our feet entangled. Soft breath, the breath of sleep, skims my ear in a gentle caress. This is wonder, the finding of him so near, so connected, the unconscious reaching for each other deep in our dreams. A sense of security, of love, of belonging, soothes my spirit, my soul. I shift my legs closer, extending contact, feeling his skin against mine. As my shoulders relax into his chest, his arm tightens over me. He is deep asleep, dreaming. Our body heat envelops us, warmth enfolding us in a shared exchange of intimacy.

At peace, my eyes drift closed once more and sleep reclaims me.