Waking the Morning After
A brush of an arm.
A gentle warmth.
A loving embrace.
A fresh taste.
The sounds of hearts race.
A friendly smile,
Protective from harm,
An everlasting charm.
He closed the paper in his hand, and smiled. She gave him one of these poems every week. But it was different this month. Since the start of February, she had one of these poems waiting for him every morning. Delicately, he placed the paper down onto the nightstand.
He turned, climbing back into bed. It was Saturday morning, and she was still asleep. She must’ve placed the poem there last night. He wrapped an arm around her body, pulling her closer, burying his face in her warmth. Snuggling against her, he planted a kiss at the nape of her neck. His heart beat contently in his chest, as he watched her sleep.
She was so peaceful. So beautiful. Every curve, every strand of hair was perfect. His heart pounded gratefully. Thankful that she agreed to be his wife.
He ran a finger down her back, tracing her figure, and feeling the smoothness of her skin. She stirred.
“What’s up?” She asked, groggily.
“Just appreciating you and your poem.” He answered, behind her as she turned to face him.
“Happy Valentine’s Day.” She said with a smile.
“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He answered returning her smile. A smile he’d promised to protect. Delicately cupping her face into his hand, he leaned toward her and planted a kiss upon her face, studying the smile decorating it. A smile he’d continue protect for as long as he lived.
This poem and scene were inspired by the “A Word A Day” writing prompt from the “Promptly Written” Publication for February 10th.
Intimacy
