Beside you,

lying down at dark,

my waking fits your sleep.



Your turning

flares the slow-banked fire

between our mingled feet,



and there,

curved close and warm

against the nape of love,



held there,

who holds your dreaming

shape, I match my breathing



to your breath;

and sightless, keep my hand

on your heart's breast, keep



nightwatch

on your sleep to prove

there is no dark, nor death.