Solace

“Missed you,” he says in a sleepy mumble,
and bleary-eyed he tumbles into the empty space on his side of my bed,
pressing his length against my side and wrapping his limbs around me like a pretzel.

.

And it is there,
in the murmured nonsensical half-sentences we finish for one another

~ Don’ pusha… Tummy  -and-  Elbow… Not comf’ble ~

 that the sleep we’ve been separately chasing silently cocoons us in its blanket,
and in the warm rays of the dawn’s light drifting through the window
we drift together toward sunlit slumber,
finding comfort despite the chaos,
if only for a little while.