the soft kiss of
your clothing to my cheek
smell of burning sugar
like this sweetness, ablaze
we are flames, and you are
infatuated with firelight
tell me one morning
my breakfast coffee won't be
filled with reflections
of my dreams, your face
dancing on the dark surface,
eyes of morning light
the cool sky of an early sunrise
the kaleidoscope of the night
turning to day.
NaPoWriMo #1, 2023
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