You kiss me softly while
I gently caress your shoulder
to the lilt of the stereo,
set against a backdrop
of a quiet, Sunday morning.
Dust, filtered in morning sunshine,
wafting in the warm air,
and then,
into the spaces between our fingers,
until we clasp them
together tightly.
Your fingers,
interlocking with mine,
an ill-fitting puzzle.
But what more could I ask for?
Nothing that could be better
than this morning
full of stereo, dust and sunshine.
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