morn's pallid shade hovers
on windowsills and in my bed
the warmth of cold enfolds my head
i inhale its milk
that silk of night that spins itself onto me
i feel the day not quite break open
crack only exquisitely
out of my sight sun is an intuition
still far off but here this gluey hue of
greyish blue
settles me deeper willing sleeper
loving half light sense night take a shyer flight
my body burrows into sheets and
my cheek takes shelter all the way
to my feet
seasofme290419
