A quiet sort of morning,
the dew weighs down the leaves.
The birds will start their calling–
we'll stay 'tween the sheets.

A peering light does crest
our ankles, laced together.
Warming us from legs to chest,
our breath begins to feather.

I wish that i could lay,
lay next to you all morn.
Forget my plans today,
retain our naked form.

Sitting up, I reach to you,
stroke your cheek and breathe:
"Don't worry love, I'll be back soon.
For now, I have to leave."

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