Morning Thoughts:
It’s the bed, where
I wake when you’re
in it.
It’s beneath the blanket
in the cold room where our
body heat keeps.
It’s the softness of
your skin, that
consumes my
consciousness—
and coddles
my soul.
It’s your eyes,
the smear of eyeliner
from the day prior.
It’s in the morning,
the way your voice
crackles.
It’s my chest when you lie
your head upon it.
It’s your lips
when they’re pressed
against mine.
It’s your closeness—
from which my comfort
can be drawn.
And when we part—
I’m left feeling sappy.
It’s every stanza,
written prior to the
last, that truly makes
me happy!
May 25
May 25, 2026 at 11:46 AM UTC
Morning Thoughts:
It’s the bed, where
I wake when you’re
in it.
It’s beneath the blanket
in the cold room where our
body heat keeps.
It’s the softness of
your skin, that
consumes my
consciousness—
and coddles
my soul.
It’s your eyes,
the smear of eyeliner
from the day prior.
It’s in the morning,
the way your voice
crackles.
It’s my chest when you lie
your head upon it.
It’s your lips
when they’re pressed
against mine.
It’s your closeness—
from which my comfort
can be drawn.
And when we part—
I’m left feeling sappy.
It’s every stanza,
written prior to the
last, that truly makes
me happy!
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