morning comes
in waves, rising with
a warm and soft winter sun
that makes runny droplets
of frost on windows.

I haven’t risen yet, I am
still dreaming with you
somewhere in the
realm of imaginings
as lush as this morning.

your liquid eyes melt
through my dreams. you blur
the boundaries between what is
and what could be. like dew
resting on arching, curling leaves.

like mist
moving through the bones of trees.

© SoulReserve 2020

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