sunday morning

cold morning air
    tangled hair

warmth of your back
  softly, your neck

 lazy sunbeams
melting dreams
			"hey"
	"hey"
		that smile
		that embrace

   a soft tangle
   a warm fumble

somehow, some time, the kitchen

crackling bacon
	frying egg
		rumbling kettle

long stares
		something said
i dont know
i was listening
i just	am	gay

and the coffee is ready
and	       is warm

     like you

	      on sunday morning