Gratitude Lingers
I always wake up early. It doesn't matter what transpired in the night, I'm up with the sun if not before while she is a heavy sleeper. An average morning would include a few moments to bask in gratitude before rising to stretch and make coffee. My bed is soft and warm, and here I am waking up next to this mess of a woman. Today, gratitude lingers. I brush my fingertips against the nape of her neck and contemplate waking the beauty, but no. If you love a flower, you don't change it by plucking it from which it grows. Let her sleep. I let myself become lost in admiration. She stirs and I catch my breath. The soft sounds of sleep return, so I sit and wrap myself
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