He dreamed he died. Drowning. He woke up shaking, could not sleep.
She lay on her side, back facing him, sleeping. He slid his hand over her soothing breast. She sighed, half-awake.
He moved down to her pussy, found her already moist. The same sleepy exhalation.
He slid inside her, slowly, gently, entirely. She came without words, he soon followed. They rejoined each other in sleep.
We are blessed with certain spaces in our lives, carved by love and need and simple animal comfort. As fragile as prayer, as real as the walls around us.
They save us from drowning.
