Early

Soft fingery tickles 

Tender warm caresses

He gently sweeps the wispy hairs from my face

And cradles his thighs beneath my buttocks

He pulls me close and whispers

I love you

Pressing his skin to mine

I can feel his heart

He pulls his fingertips the length of my arm

Each of my tiny hairs stand on end

It is early, I insist with my eyes still closed

He pulls me in closer

A kiss behind my ear

And I feel his love

His early morning affection

My daily vitamin

My husband and I have a one-of-a-kind relationship. Together since we were 16 and 18 years old, happily I might add, we have been called unique, unusual, not the norm, an anomaly, a miracle. We know how lucky we are and talk about it regularly.

But I have always wanted to capture that early morning feeling I get waking up next to him. We both have trouble sleeping when the other is away, and those early morning minutes whether workday or weekend, between waking into consciousness and getting out of bed, are some of his most tender moments. It is as though before the weight of the world hits us, our love is pure and private and just us. It is not a particularly sexual feeling, but an emotionally secure and loving feeling. This poem is my tribute to him and that feeling.