The house is quiet
Tired dogs kennel themselves
A reminder that sleep
Should be welcome.
Legs slip slowly into a
Heated-blanket-warmed bed
Otherwise empty of
Arms and legs.
Two pillows,
Only one needs to be fluffed,
Are propped at the head.
The desultory late evening
‘I don’t want to sleep
Until we talk about
One last thing’ chatter
Is absent from the room,
Missing from the house.
The once small space, the tiny bed,
Are a million times their original size
And I am cut in half.

Happy Valentine’s Day, my friends.