I wake up to the honey buttered toast on a thin china plate.
Chamomile just at the right temperature.
Brown sugar sprinkled on my fresh strawberries.
If I want any caramel macchiato there’s still some left on the stove warm for me.
Peeled and sliced oranges with crisp bacon.
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All that you promised to make me when we move in together and start a life together. Guess I'll never get that Sunday breakfast.