one morning.

my fantastical morning.

I'd like to wake up next to you

Your smell in my sheets and your hand gently resting on the space where my bum and back meet



Outside; it could be snow, clouds, sunshine or rain, but in here its a comfortable 70 degrees, the air is still and our gentle breathing is on loop, playing over and over again.



In this early morning fog, we stir.



We rest somewhere between reality and dream, but aware that you are him and I am her.



Now aware of each others presence, we are aware of our silence. But it isn't deafening, no, its decibels are delicate and this reality? Its a dream, from sleep perchanced.