I fell in love with the morning
how you stumbled out of bed
when you first woke up
and how your eyes groaned with exhaustion.
The way your hands grasped my hipbones
while your lips stole the ending of my sentences.
Everyday with you felt like a month of Sunday mornings
with white bed sheets and lazy smiles.

That same morning, I fell in love with
the coffee shop down the street
and the way your asked for your coffee.

The ride home from your house
made me remember what Monday mornings felt like...

Somewhere in between falling
in love with our midnight conversations
that were exhaled through cigarette breaths,
interrupted by coffee stains,
and reading the love notes you had
written on my flesh,
I realized...
I am in love with the presence
of your words
and the feel of your existence...


But I am not  in love with you...


Breeze ©