Night after night, exhausted,
digesting the day, past words
and this side of sleep, we lie simplified,

stripped of past lives and projects,
weary of voices and verticals,
relieved to be only bodies side by side;

and more often than not, before diving
into the provisional common death
of sleep, we nuzzle up, content

to tell each other, rather proudly,
of our minor, prosaic feats:
another day spent, another night together.

And each world erases its margins
in the embrace of another body.