profundity

asthewhitecrowflies:

nothing more profound
than this:

to be squeezed awake
at the witching hour, with rain-drizzled
moonlight in the slats

to be taken closer into
the warmth of your lover
as he whispers:

god i love you

still halfway in sleep, he speaks this
and the tightness on your sternum
is the heaviness of love.