Wednesday, April 02, 2008

radiant mornings

waking up without the aid of any alarm,
to a soft rhythmic breathing
a delicious warmth where our skins are pressed together
clothes strewn around on the floor
sun shining through empty wine bottles
traces of your smell on my skin
the gentle heaviness of limbs

it's the perfect moment of my day
when everything is just right.

the day tumbles after that,
imperfect, dissatisfying hours of existence
lost between deadlines, newspapers and electricity bills;
but I find the meaning of life condensed in these moments of naked beauty.

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