The Lovers

by Åsa Eriksson

Pale rectangle of pre-dawn window. Soft breathing
at the back of her neck.
There is no such thing as security.
A ticking clock; she registers all regularities, counting on them
to fall apart. And he just sleeps - unfazed
by all that can go wrong. She thinks he knows she loves him.
There is no such thing as knowledge.
In love, all you have is faith
and the generosity of your own heart.

The Author

Åsa Eriksson is a moderately insane redhead, born in 1972. Originally from Staffanstorp, Sweden, she went in search of the meaning of life and ended up in South Bohemia, as caretaker of a mansion in the forest. She paints and writes but also knows a lot about baking bread and chopping wood.