Middle

When I feel cold and fragile,
A lost thing in the dark,
I like to curl up against your stomach. 
Strong and solid,
My cheek against
Your warm skin.
Wrapped around your middle,
I feel the very life in you.
The slow rise and fall
Of your breath.
In a strange way
It feels maternal;
My protector,
My comfort.
But you are a man.
My man.
My life raft
On a lonely sea.

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