Slipping into convergent cushions
my heavy limbs wrap into the upholstery,
and the opulence of the warmth
heaves me to the much sunnier side of my heart.

The light filters through the canopy,
whilst barefoot tiptoes introduce you to I,
springing to your embrace.
Cheek brushes cheek,
your sturdy hands wrap my waist;
"I will spoil you,"
you whisper,
"everything will be okay."

I drive my fingers into your shoulders tightly,
though slipping from you.
Spilling onto the spread I once came from,
peeking retinas grasp a filtering light
between broken blinds.
I chase you,
deeper into my covers.