However different our thoughts,
interests, or daytime worlds,
when we lie down together at night
your hand reaches for mine.
And the first thing I know each morning
is your face pressed to a breast,
my leg sandwiched between yours,
our fingers intertwined.
Comfortable with self, with you,
with being needed by you,
I am affectionately yours
and you are mine.
first published in Illinois State Poetry Society
also published in GLORY IN THE ORDINARY Chapbook
©2002 Bonnie Manion