a security blanket,
I keep at the foot of my bed.
It doesn’t shield me from loneliness,
It’s purely for show.
I imagine limbs tangled in that blanket.
Our breathes mingling to create dream clouds.
Legs combining like tree roots.
A tentative hand and trembling lips,
The tangible reality of my nerves.
Sooth me with my favorite line from Jane Austen,
Darling I just might love you.
Hips grind against hips
We’re two halves of a love poem.
You, the undying love
Me, the inevitable disappointment.