There is a valley that lies between us now
in the bed where we sleep
vast and barren
trenches of pillows
define a battlefield of sheets.
Fingers like stray bullets
infiltrating enemy ranks
smooth caresses
seeking a counter attack
and on the battle rages
as flesh finds its own.
Tangled masses
fighting in the dead of night
we only pull apart
when the last cannon blows.
Retreating to familiar ground                  
Tending to our wondered
I lay awake and wonder
who is the winner
and
who was defeated?