Untitled Poem

Who could resist a morning
where leaves tumble like intentions
and the coffee is already made

Your mouth was a shotgun
That met my memory, my murmuring
and I,
sharp shooter,
knew my way around that trigger
like thirst knows the desert

We wipe up the secrets with dirty socks
and charm our way out of the darkness
where daylight is always winking
willing us awake in to wonder

As we disentangle our limbs from the dawn
like lovers who have turned from each other in their sleep

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