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  • It is the soft side of morning,
    before moments harden into minutes,
    before time barks out its marching orders,
    My cheek on your chest,
    the palm of your hand on the curve of my thigh,
    I feel the brush of your breath,
    cool silk on clean skin,
    you move over me like mist on water
    and I wake woozy with anticipation.

    Photo lake behind our house
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