She Is

Her head rests upon my lap,
Hands coiled around my leg,
Coats wet but warm - damp,

Her fingers paying on my jeans,
Eyes shut closed and resting,
Curled up and sleeping as it seems,

Hum of the car travelling ahead,
The world passes by in a glimpse,
My hand on hers, hand on her head,

Day to night and night to light,
Morning dew wakes me anew,
Eyes open slowly, everything feels right

poetry she is she is literature amateur viva jinx poetry