Not even king, or queen, or full, but twin;
Each in her silence left concern unsaid
'Til one shrugged gently. "If you're in, I'm in."
The other nodded. "The sofa is too small
And won't fold out. The floor is not an option."
Though both agreed, they still began to stall
The moment of the premise's adoption.
One read her book, crammed in a little chair;
One puttered in the bathroom for a while
Pretending she just had to fix her hair
As if she'd ever cared about its style.
But nighttime still did come, and with it sleep;
The two awoke entangled in one heap.
