It's always beautiful
as usual
waking up to you
in the morning.

Closed eyes, tucked in
looking for you
as fresh rays
break day, and we
toss and we turn
feeling limb by limb

Leaning over to kiss
you awake
coming to know
first light
by your smile
when.

A sky full of wishes waiting to be had
Twinkling against a backdrop of deep dark blue
A billion stars poised to gracefully fall
Every last one reserved for you

you kinda cute

just kinda?
she objects,
oops,
clearly, a misspoken misadventure,
a middling-compliment

only, kinda?

she kinda further harrumphs
and goes back to a game of solitaire

“oh yes, everyone has their own cute,
yours, is kinda yours,
in a kinda cutie way,
don’t ask me to kinda define it,
that!
would be kinda impossible”

she drops the sujet and I
pat nat on the back
for his slick escape,
not realizing that he been played,
when she, informed a poem been writ,
said, oh is the kinda poem done then?

kinda
****
1/17/19 900am