Kiss Me in the Morning
Kiss me in the morning, when I taste of peanut butter,
when our souls are newly-birthed into the world,
since when your mouth scents of the unwashed bottom of a cup
previously fill’d with rotten milk,
I couldn’t be any more in love with you.
Kiss me in the morning, after I wake up before you and get dressed watching your carry on sleeping in soundless langour.
After the complimentary scents of cinnamon & orange rind permeate the air and audibly evoke animal sensations in our stomachs. These sounds succeed in doing nothing more than bringing us closer together.
Kiss me in the morning when the freshly born sun in the sky caresses your face like a honey-coloured benediction and casts a heavenly glow over all.
When we lie awake, still as a summer moon, while the world ground faults to life around us.
When each of us realize that while time is finite, the moments we have shared are forever.
Kiss me in the morning, when I inform you that I must away, that the world calls my name again: with urgency now, with a will, with a will!
Though I plan to come back soon, such an endless moment spent in transportative limbo it is.
And you know what is said about one’s best-laid plans.
Kiss me in the morning, as I wish I didn’t have to collapse this beautiful dream by doing something as innocuous as leaving our space for but a moment.
Kiss me in the morning, since in the morning I am content to measure my time in the shower, or making breakfastnot as time away from you, but merely as time which separates you + I.
Kiss me in the morning, for in the afternoon we forget the details of one another’s lips, and get lost in otiose conundrums.
Kiss me in the morning, for in the evening our tired bodies resting side by side is wondrously, amorously enough; since we expended our energies unto each other in the morning, and unto the world, come afternoon, the evening is our time to steep in all the love we have given, and rejoice upon our awakening next to each other.