Waiting for the light...

She is not afraid of the dark
though I am a coward at it still
her footsteps trek the twenty feet
from her room to ours with the
diligence of a water fall
and arrives at our bed,
whispers "Mima"
this is enough for my sleeping
arms to swoop her into
the folds of our one heated mass
where I place her between
the giant of a man and her
little mother's breasts

She will nurse in the dark
we will say nothing in the
absence of light
I swallow my fears as I look
at the blackness in my mind
then, I am able to see that
she trusts in the night
to take our sleep to
the doorstep of the
universe where we will
knock and will wait
for someone to turn
on the porch light
and open the door