Wednesday, January 18, 2012

whit.

he hums for me in early morning
nudging his face into my hair and he sighs.

most days i lie unmoving
smiling sleepily as he nips my fingers

his tiny black hairs litter the bed,
his pillow has its own scent.

i relish in his pre-noon passion
though he’s only looking for some water
and a small tin can.

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