You used to sleep on me, soothed by being held, by the sounds of my body, by the rhythm of my breath. I remember your soft warmth, surrendered weight, total trust. Fists uncurling on my chest, fingers tangled in my hair. Such tender, ferocious, aching love — pulsing through me, it felt like every heartbeat I would ever have. Cell by cell, you became who you are. Now tall as me, you sleep late, hold your own dreams. But that love still burns, an unwavering fire — warmth if you are sleepless, light if you are lost.
