The First Kiss Of Morning
You arrive before the day has even taken shape,
your scent rising like a lover’s touch across the room,
filling every corner with a warmth that whispers my name.
Steam from your body curls in tender spirals,
a veiled invitation to come closer and linger,
to press my face into the comfort only you carry.
Your fragrance is not simply smelled, it is inhabited,
rich and earthy, yet softened with sweetness,
the kind of presence that makes silence feel alive.
When my lips finally find you,
heat spreads through me with a patient insistence,
bitterness transformed into a flavor that clings like devotion.
You move through my veins with steady rhythm,
a quiet fire that opens my eyes to the waiting world,
turning breath into clarity, thought into song.
Each sip is a confession I never tire of making,
an intimacy that binds me to the moment,
as if love itself could be poured into porcelain.
And when you are gone, cup emptied and cooled,
you leave me trembling with gratitude,
knowing you will return again with the next dawn.