The wind creeps in the window crack,
crisp 7AM air brings sounds of
mourning doves.
The tangle of sheets, a cocoon of warmth,
guards skin from a cool spring breeze.
Baby evergreens brush a cadence against window screens,
politely calling for attention.
You snuffle and roll over,
skin goose-bumped from the touch of a fresh draft,
hiding sensitive eyelids from the bright white sky.
I slide closer.
A strand of hair falls onto my face,
as I press my cheek into the dip
between bare shoulder blades.
Your heart beats in time to the outdoors.
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