Returning

Late summer. Early morning. To the low choral hum of window unit a.c’s, mysterious animals fearlessly scavenging in the middle of silent streets, and sleeping minds still dreaming – mechanical dreams, here return I home a lone soul just before dawn, under the glittering light of the bright morning stars. You have softly commandeered my heart, and my side of the bed with your arms, and your legs, and your warmth…and, my love, I do not mind. Make my world yours.

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