So far as my memory goes
I have always been a morning person.
But somewhere between
cozying up with you
under warm duvets
and waking up to caresses
that neither of us knew who had started
the nights became dearer to me.
Where the monsters of the night
had kept me from sleeping,
of your left arm
circling my neck,
resting on my right shoulder,
kept me from waking.
Interlocking hands with Ma while sleeping
had been a habit,
interlocking arms with you
became a need.
what feeling protected was like.
belonging to someone
had nothing to do with proprietorship
I found my aggressively feminist thoughts
dulling down in my mind
as my eyes cleared
to see your sleepy, innocent face
next to mine in the morning.
Illumined by the warm sunshine,
we hadn’t stirred all night.