still life

beneath warm fleece sheets
she sleeps (dreaming of worlds
which could never
exist) and i can’t resist
this inescapable urge
to ride those sweet
shallow waves of her breath
as deep as death
until i arrive
at the still beating heart
of eternity.

it’s late. gently i peel
back the covers from our bed
to slip inside
and just when i rest my head
filled with nothing left
to lose and nothing
left to hide
she rolls instinctively
on her side.