4; IN THE MORNING

I love the way you smell in the morning. 

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Sweet meadow at sunrise, dewy and fresh.

Lavender breeze.

Eucalyptus trees under a blanket of stars.

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                                          And it’s the best.

 

Wrap you tight 'round your center.

Puzzle-piece yours to mine.

Don’t quite fit but it’s fine.

I’ll show myself out,

use the back door when it’s time; 

                                                     I swear it.

 

                                 But we’re not there yet.

 

Warm.

Deep breaths.

Hair a tussled mess.

And with sand still in your eye,

you roll over and cry:

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                  MAMAAAAAAAAA!

 

                              ...I’m thirsty.