I wake early from moth-eaten sleep
the heat of the bed singes gossamer wing
I stir and shift, tear from my coccoon
with a deep stretch and breathe
a song from a sigh, warmth
radiates from your stillness
I watch you sleep on, parted lips
vulnerable-soft, and fragile fluttering lashes
and press a kiss to your peach-ripe cheek
sweet and giving to the touch
you wake like the sunrise
a prism of color and light.

08/26/1999

Posted on 05/05/2003
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