Morning

for some reason i always think of the morning when i think of him: new, bright, cool, his lips on my skin and his green eyes soft and innocent.

i've told him a thousand times, it's so charming, the way he wakes up and kisses me before i even see the glow of recognition in his eyes. he tells me i'm his reason to wake up, and it makes me smile; it's as if he can feel me there, in his dreams, like i can feel him.

i miss him so badly right now. i miss waking up and making love in the morning and then allowing myself to succumb to his amoeba-like tendencies and clutch me until i drift back to sleep (even though i'd yell at him playfully every day i realized that his soft embrace had lulled me into dozing).

those sleepy moments always belong to thoughts of him. he is my morning, my bright colorful sunrise.