With your radiant smile,
waking my heart from its slumber after,
what feels like,
years of hitting the snooze button.
I feel as if I'm laying in bed,
sunshine peaking through the corners of my thick curtains.
As I look around the room
I feel I've never seen before
it becomes very clear that this
is my home.
The first steps onto the floor
are like
running my fingers through your hair, familiar and comforting.
Your touch,
warmth creeping from the ceiling chasing away the rush of cold
that comes with exiting bed
on a winter morning.
I wander through the room
taking in the calming feel
of the cool green paint on the walls, sunset peeking through the canopy
of the woods that I plan on taking you,
one day.
I find myself resting my hand on a messy desk.
It reminds me of how cluttered your head is.
Trying to sort through the papers seems impossible.
I found a lot of amazing poetry
and a lot of sad thoughts jotted down
Abandoned rough sketches.
I like this room a lot.
The ceiling has a line of paint flicked across it,
stars in the night.  
I enjoy it, 'Tis Like freckles.
It's sporadic, draws my attention to it. The bed is large,
I'm only now noticing it.
Comfortable, it seems easy to overlook . I'm glad I didn't.
The door is open,
I wonder where it leads
as I let my overwhelming curiosity lead me.
Into the next room.