sunday mornings are about
sitting with a book
about
shaving the scrub
from my malformed
skull
about daydreaming
she is lazily lying
with her feet
on my lap
as i tap out the words
to describe
contentment

sunday mornings are about
naps
in a pillow fort
about
creating
in the silence
with coffee
music
playing low
lost in a the world
that is really
just me
lost in you

sunday mornings are about
shedding
the dust of the road
in preparation
for the road
to come
indecently pondering
the most direct route
from lip to heart
to the ocean of her soul
then taking the day
to explore all
the scenic majesty between

i want to
love you
like a year of saturdays
while taking
a year of sunday mornings
before the world
awakens
to appreciate
every facet
of who you are
letting my silence
wash
across your skin