a half-asleep morning
begins to peek
between the slats of the blinds
but my mind is still
lost in a dream so vivid
that when I feel warm lips
pressed against my shoulder
I am unsure if it is the real you
or the you that is kissing me in my dream
but as your hand traces the inside of thigh
stopping when it comes to a dead end
I know it is the you that
    (like a rooster)
races to beat our alarm clock
spreading my legs
to consume your breakfast
before the sun has wiped the sleep
from her eyes
it won’t be long now
before my cries beckon her from slumber
my raspy morning voice screaming the names
of deities  
and you
and when I finally open my eyes
sweat soaked and spent
it is to the familiar sound
(not of an electronic beeping)
but the deep purr of your voice:
my god, darling
you look beautiful in the sunshine

August 30, 2021