May 4, 2021
1 min read
Morning Sanctuary
A poem
The waves of our
crumpled
white sheets
form an imprint,
marking
our morning
sanctuary.
Our bed,
an island;
the floor,
the stillest of seas.
Indolent mornings
with you are
my favorite;
how I wish
we could stay
like this,
our duties
defy;
no need for
swayed goodbyes.
