She knows she had not dreamed him…
For Morning revealed scampering traces
of his smile, still tugging her left cheek dimple,
into a sort of scooped out grin; one
not yet fully committed to surrendering
its charge, completely into his care.
She would reserve at least half…so that
she could wind up wattage at will, and steal
that self-assured smirk from his face, if only
to watch his eyes deepen in pooled indigo.
She took …only for the sheer pleasure
that came in returning it to him once more,
by slow warming degrees until blazed
increments pulsed, melting hearts when unleashed…
Her entire face lit with the knowledge
Morning Sun was his co-conspirator
…and, between the two of them,
she never even stood a chance…
