i dream of her.
her almond soap
still gently masking
the sticky sweet sweat
of an august well spent.
her chest, gently moving
up and down and up
its own sweet rhythm.
her lips, parting in the morning sun
drinking in the dredges of starlight.
its too early to say good morning.
too late to say goodbye.
she stays like this
just out of reach
her sheets brushing against my legs
warmed by our bodies
and the end of a summer.
her curves mimic mine
the way i wish i could erase us
make us into memory
just for a moment.
i think to touch her,
kiss her,
keep her complete in this morning
where she is still whole.
i want to wake her.
i simply watch her,
feel her breathing,
and dream.
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