Just to hold on

Wherever we were, my sweetheart - at home or visiting somewhere or in a hotel together -you always seemed to make your side of the bed nearest to a clear path in case you needed to get up in the night. Except at our apartment in NYC, where you slept closest to the wall. And I liked that because it meant you had to try to quietly crawl over me on your way out and then I could catch you up in a full body embrace, my arms and legs entangling you and holding you close and tight. And never letting go. Never ever letting you go...