I wake in the quiet hours
When the world is sleeping
I roll over, drawn to your warm and soft skin
You roll over and groan
Waking from the world of dreaming
Mumbling beautiful nothings in your French smoky tone
In the dark, my senses guide my lips to yours and you pull me home

You gently rise
I listen to your sweet steps as they meet the floor
The waking aroma of the espresso fill my lungs
You return to the still room
I hear the crinkling as you roll your morning cigarette
I slowly lift my head
My heavy eyes meet yours and you know what my heart is saying

Je t'aime
I am home