Crumpled cheek
cotton silked by lovers overnight
softened by the dawn-light
Often my first sight of you
still sleeping
for that moment
is just before you rise
and then open your eyes
to look on lazy me
holding on to a sweet sweet
reverie
feeling
for those moments
only where we touch
and then the meniscus of us
must part
in that infinitesimally
divided
sunlit moment
that slow fading forever
Hands
fingers are the last left touching
to surrender
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