I tie myself into the cars now.
My ears fire and my breath opens.
I collect my thoughts of you,
and arrange them on the bed.

Organize in piles of adoration,
in piles of reverence.
I used to sleep away half a day,
pull a dream with me until afternoon.

Today we woke a little, and as usual
snoozed for ten in its perfection.
Slumber. Kiss.
Warmth under our fingertips.

And I find your eyes over the steam
of an Americano, and you find mine
over a tilting bottle of hot liquid spice.
There are such tastes for us today, and more tastes for us tomorrow.