Good Morning

jitters lexicon reflection good morning! and it IS a good morning! the sun, as always in its inexplicable radiance and deplorable warmth, is rising slowly, illuminating first our fence, my nightstand, your hand where it rests, warm, in the middle of my back; and you, as always in your brand-new-day smile and messy hair, are opening your eyes slowly, like a twin emerald reflection of the me i love the most, reminding me first of the trees back home when spring has first sprung, granny smith apple peels piled in my sink as i make pie, your hand, warm, where it rests in the middle of my back. this perfumed lexicon i throw at you softly, petals dropped from new-skin hands onto wedding-day aisle floors, stretches planet-wide and still cannot even begin to divulge the extent of my devotion for you or explain the torn and bloodied remnants of my heart in a way that expresses my true intention: to give that heart to you. and you lay here, head beside mine on your pillow, body entwined with mine beneath this quilt, hand warm on the middle of my back, smiling at me while you take my hand as if it still turns your heart to realize i'm shaking like i've got the Virginity Jitters when you weave your fingers between mine and pull them close to kiss them; you smile at me with that brand-new-day smile as if you are ready to take on the world because today has forgotten yesterday and the defeat it holds; you open your eyes -- jade pools mirroring memories of the pond at my grandmothers farm, the foliage my mother wove around her backyard the day she swore eternity to a man who loves her more than breathing, my kindergarten class on st. patrick's day -- slow at first but fluttering now, to murmur a "good morning" and flash your dimples as you bury the side of your head further into y(our) pillow; and your hair resembles art -- too long, too dark, too tangled, splayed across this baby blue pillow sheet like ink scribbled into the sky that is waking up alongside us.