I woke up,
Mid-January,
The light hit him just right,
He looked almost holy.
I traced,
His parted lip,
Felt the softness,
Before I pressed mine.
I breathed in,
The intoxicating aroma,
It smelled like him,
And clean linens.
He woke up,
Mid-January,
The light hit him just right,
He looked almost holy.