Something about mornings hardly exist
Slipping through are sleepy smiles
soundless sighs, drifting in and out of sleep
Meeting each other’s hazy eyes
There was nothing to pierce serenity
only the reserved smell of fresh linen and
sunlight landing on warm hands;
a sight winking in and out of consciousness
I could not say if it was my imagination
A lingering taste, sweet with memories
of the quiet moments of before
when words were swapped like honey
But through stiff limbs and half-forgotten memories
I wanted something that hardly exists,
To never fade
