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there are the mornings where your back cracks
as you reach over seeking for the curve of my hip
and thunder rumbles through the clouds outside
just a single second after your sleepy bones sigh.

sometimes there are mornings where aches spread
slowly down the slopes of your thighs before coming
to a rest behind relaxed knees and the skin there is nice
and warm when my cold ankles come to rest around them.

other times there are mornings where angry winds howl
through the bars of our ribcages oh-so-loudly and we’re
so sick and tired of feeling sick and tired that the walls
tremble in fear as we play our least favourite game of pushpull.

there are also mornings where the floors are covered
with water that rise up to our shins and yet you are willing
to wade through waves that are strong enough to crack the
bedframe just to get to me and brush water off my cheeks.

and there will always be mornings where your sleepy lips
manage to cover the expanse of my face and a lazy
smile imprints itself on the similar curve of your sharp
collarbone as fingers bury themselves in my tangled hair.

(refer to: wanting your monday mornings)