morning

I like to look at your face when you are bed centered 

Eye mask lopsided on your crown 

Pushing an eager row of stubbed hair upright 

The blanket is pulled with anxious fingers 

In a line across your smile 

To obscure giddiness 

I inch up my dress on my thigh 

Winter coat on 

And lean forward  

To lay myself upon you 

My hair still damp  

It cascades around you as a veil 

A canopy for your cheeks 

One slightly higher in its grin 

But both the exact perfect height 

To hold my face with yours 

And smell the hearthy warmth 

Of your skin 

Against a cold, blue day