sweetlove,
you're lovely
when you sleep
— here, in
a sunless
morning;
your chest
rising and
falling.
shoulders;
outlined in
lamplight.
quietly, in
your ear
i whisper
random words
— call it poetry.
i want you
to wake up.
watch you
softly,
slowly
put on
your
cotton shirt.
toes
touching
the cold floors.
i want to
make us
warm coffee,
and ask you
to read
something
from a book.
put my leg
against your leg,
my cup
next to
your cup,
my nose
to
your nose —
close.
close.
close,
watching
our sleeps
swirl together;
pupils
dilate
behind
our
eyelids.
i want
to talk
about our
backs,
and hair
and fingers
and necks
and thighs.
lean against
a wall,
as the
sun
from
the window,
slowly,
turns us
pink,
like
your brain,
like
my tongue,
like
the insides
of your
mouth,
like
my
collarbone,
like
your
beating
heart,
like
my
­lower
lip

like

i can't think.
wake up.