In the dark
she says, but what if
the fire alarm goes off?
and I say, it won’t
and she says, but what if
and I say, shhhh, it’s
time to sleep and she says,
but what if the alarm
goes off? and I say
then I will carry you
outside to my car
and you will be safe
and she says
thank you and rolls
over, and I lie awake,
holding her in the silence
long after her breathing
has steadied into sleep,
our bodies curled into
each other like two
question marks.