Another morn; another nudge
From warm, delicate toes against the back of my ankle.
I rouse, but linger in the warmth of fleece and flannel,
Awaiting the next, more urgent, yet gentle, nudge.
Receiving it, I tread the cold wood to cold porcelain fixtures
Disturb their gleaming purity with her excellent chocolate cake,
And I smell the coffee downstairs as I dress in silence,
And brace for my labors in the cold, cold world
But that frigid air
And that frosty management
Become but mild distraction
As I tip-toe back in the darkness
To kiss the perfect cheekbone
Of the one who is my Heart.
Happy Valentine’s Day