Across the table, you and
Your hair in the gentle vent, chattering
Keystrokes, highs and lows,
Cup of coffee, no smoke, and
I never want to go; even when my eyelids
Droop, you just look golden this
Morning, and
Every word you said hit, paradoxically,
Powerful and transient as water, as I said,
“You give me life” and
Meant it, or maybe only just
Whispered it in my head, as I linger
Here, lost in your beauty this
Morning
Gian's Art Dump 