She woke up slow,
from one of those deep sleeps
where consciousness frays her way out
from the debts of your dreams.

Slowly becoming aware of the
breath rising and falling next to her,
the paper-weight arm holding her in place,
the way the sofa pulled her from the edge, into his chest.

Finding a smile on her lips that she
had not feigned to please those around her,
and thinking, "if bombs rained from the sky the
way water does in April, I would find solace here."

With magnets in his bones and rapturous
tidal waves pushing her into his body,
she thought, *"only death herself
could drag me from such bliss that I feel now"