A Confirmation by Andrew Dillon

less than a year together
early on a cold morning
the house hums
the world is calm
small like the warm pocket
between them. it feels
like a confirmation
years later, looking back,
not touching her,
the idea of some future

he’s first to wake up
blankets bunched on her side
a low, steady tune.
enough to notice something
of air pulsing
to him like a mercy
of what, he won’t be sure until
he inches closer,
allowing that space to swell,
happiness, maybe,