The Quiet Dawn Hours of You

My last memory will be of this moment

By Alina 555 on iStock (image licensed by author)

Our room silent,
the five o’clock cold light
seeping through the blinds
That still time
between the fading grasp of night
and the early rustling
of the world greeting the morning
You lay wrapped
in my arms, half asleep
The room chilled
by a late winter day
as we hide buried under blankets
My face pressed
into your dark, red hair
Soft breathing in…