I ache for your sleepy voice
Tangled in dreams,
The scent of breakfast wafting in,
Eyes fluttering in half-surprise.
I long for the touch of your lips
Pulling me back to warmth,
The scent of cinnamon
Tickling our noses.
I crave that look on your face,
Joyous contentment,
Soft and real,
Beyond anything I could have imagined.
Moonlit Poetry 