In the morning

My eyes trail the curves

Of her face;

Her tiny nose and pouted lips pushing the air,

Her smooth neck - exposed and vulnerable,

Her pearl breasts with remnants of cancer,

Her little stomach she thinks needs trimming,

Her magnificent legs - long and hidden in the ruffled sheets,

Her rough little feet poking upwards.

 

Watching her breathe

In and out

In and out of her serene little body;

A body - only part of the picture

 

I lie here waiting for the rest of her

to spring back to life.

 

1, 2