I lust for quiet mornings
Where the only sound is our breathing
Your touch bringing me gently into the present

The world is painted in watercolors still
But I don’t need the sharpness yet
I’ll live in the rounded shapes and light

Last night’s blankets are kicked to the floor
The remnants of our tv snacks on the bedside table
You kiss the mole on my collarbone, awake

And at last my dream is complete.

/May 22nd, 2023