At your breath
Your easy hand
On our juxtaposition
I woke earlier
I think not then that to wake was any dare
Other than to share your morning
With the blackbird
And the fresh brewed
Blended Breakfast and Earl Grey
Warm
Warm tea
I lay in warmth
Of cotton and plumped up pillows
And the warm breath
Of the juxtaposed proximities
Of
Of our unadorned
Of our
Of our unadorned and naked bodies
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