the cicadas, a cacophony of buzzes, resisting the heat of morning sun. i wipe the sleep from my eyes, bringing the world slowly into focus, you as well, sitting at your desk, leg up, chin on knee, a giant blur of shape and size, at your desk with a mug of tea. i try to capture the moment, wish i had a camera, but the moment is gone. your head is now turned, dimpled smile and looking at me, and i will remember that. 

water droplets on the window.

signs of spring nourished by the drizzling rain. 

we face the outside, your arm around my torso, your breath in the nape of my neck. the grey light shining in on our bodies, naked beneath the covers, giving shape to the steam rising from our hot cups or earl.

i feel you against me and all is right with the world on this dank, chilly tuesday morning.