the world is still cast
in the last anti-light
of dawn’s
preorgasmic ritual
in those precious moments
before
the arcs of pleasure
trickle across the eastern sky

i sit with coffee
that reflects
the non-radiant veneer
listening
as the birds begin
to sleepily wake
in the branches
of the old oak

i drifted to sleep
with a mind filled
with her spilling
her secret poetry
across my mind
while adventurous fingers
explored
the freshly lotioned skin
of sinful divinity

each time i woke
through the broken night
her name sat full
upon my lips
a ripened strawberry
the residual dream
sticky upon my tongue
as i fell back into her

i staggered half awake
from her embrace
to the couch
where her words
made love to my
sleep weary brain
replacing dreamneed
with caffeinated heartblossoms

in my dreams
i whisper my love
in lapping strokes
embracing the tension
teasing her to the edge
repeating until she begs me
to allow the sun
to ignite the dawn in her eyes

in my waking
i whisper my love
across the coffee cup
to infiltrate her dream
longing to be
the first thought she has
as the sun trickles
across the eastern sky