‘Can you believe its been a year?’ she purrs, regal
in candle flickering illumination, sublimating scene,
back arched, cast in relief, an exotic shadow dream.
Acquiescence breeds. Settling, she posits,
‘Poor thing, under siege. Twelve months with me
can’t have been-’
easy tenure, I assure her.
We swap smiles like campfire tales
in the flame lit blanket wilderness
and hold each other for warmth.