A Morning Story

the sound of the water hitting the basin as you wash

your neck and face

the creak of the bed as you sigh down into it to pull up

and tie your boots

the way the your hair falls over your forehead

damp and smelling

of soap

the way your shirt falls on your shoulder

soft buttons glowing in the light

the way your trousers hug your hips

the grit of your cheek on mine

the crickets still calling outside

the window

your hand on my forehead

a sort of kiss

the click of the latch

 

these things I notice most

 

 

 

 

 

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