Softly grey without

a grey and foggy day outside, 
a morning for rolling over and curling close, 
losing myself in you, 
letting go all ties to the wider world and its callings, 
its noise and troubled stirrings, 
a focus so close there is room for nothing else 
only the wonder of the way your hair curls around your ears, 
the way a smile lifts your lips, 
the way your eyes close as you sigh, 
a grey and softly silent day outside, 
no disturbance planned, 
no needs calling, 
nothing but the sensation of your hand in mine

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