The Morning Sonnet

written 8 October 2024

When I woke and rolled over to find you,
then I took your warm cheeks in my hot hands
and kissed you through the ripe breath of your dreams
and woke you wide-eyed and wanting my love.

We are moss in the morning, a wide bed
of moisture and misshapen mounds writhing,
and your breath is a smelling salt, rousing,
and your lips are far sweeter than my lips.

But the soft pale joyous unquiet sun
makes this bed so hot under the comfort
and so, when we are finished and panting,
I hope you will want a cool shower and
to eat a bowl of cold melon with me.

I will feed you pieces while you smile.

— for the Morning Lovers