In love like
warm blankets and cold coffee
forgotten like cares
we used to feel for others.
I thought before when my heart broke,
but like a pet burrowing in its
you’ve made a bed
and you’ve created softness there.
Now we have each other
to settle into
our own nook of the universe
a book to pick up on rainy days
spine worn from familiar hands.
What a kind love I have,
one that invites only lightness
enveloped in the promise of
responsibilities for another time.
What if we lay in bed long enough
rustle blankets only a little;
would the world forget us?
Would we forget