Telltale Marks
Your bedsheets left wrinkles in my skin
That I trace slowly with the tip of my finger
(it feels so early, being up before noon.)
I watch you sleep, golden lashes brushing round cheeks
The morning sun filters through the curtains
(it looks like a halo around your head.)
A brief flash of my closet romantic
I unplug the alarm clock
(no need for reality to interrupt.)
I know you're not really asleep
That half smile, faintly dancing on your lips gives you away
(i know you too well.)
I let you pretend anyway,
It's all part of the game we play.
(like children we make believe.)
Your fingers tug at my own
Invitation and