Making bread
we go to bed
resting
from our labours
making love
until it is done
(our own unique
timing system)
then fresh from the oven
we lie in bed
eating a dream
of bread & butter
melting
through our fingers
only the crumbs
a nuisance later
waking us from
dreams of each other.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/making-bread/
