I watch as you stir beneath the covers - they are not silk like you deserve, yet you wake stretching and smiling a crooked smile. And like the deity you are, you clamour through the kitchen for a cup of tea and sit atop a desk where you speak with the sun through glances alone.
I like to believe that you are looking for something in that red glare of morning -hope, perhaps love. And yet, I love you so: I love the way you unfurl the pages of a book like moth's wings -I love that you know where all the lost things go and your habit of brewing a second cup for breakfast when you laugh around bites of buttered toast.
I love you most in those moments when you seem to hold all of time in your hands. Before the day begins, when you are most yourself -and at your most wonderful.
It is very important to take care of yourself, and to make peace with yourself - because you are one of the persons who will never leave you.