Morning Breath
I lie still and watch you
as the room brightens.
We have slept as a pile of kittens
arms and legs impossibly tangled;
heads ioll back, then our lips
find each other for a kiss.
Sometimes a quick kiss,
sometimes a lingering kiss,
and occasionally someone's
tongue slips into
the other's mouth
for a little sucking.
We might not awaken
with the sweetest breath
but it will be our breath
and we won't know
if it is sweet or not,
and we won't care.
Those moments we rouse
during the night are fleeting;
just as quickly we are
sleeping deeply again
just like kittens roll without
bothering to open their eyes.
But my eyes are open
watching your sound sleep.
Your skin glows more brightly
than the morning light.
My hand gently covers your heart
tha-thumpimg its way to morning.
Breathing your sweet breath.
© 2007 Deborah Bolle
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