Morning
when she wakes up,
all the blankets pulled
to her side of the bed,
she purges sleep from her body
in one big yawn.
you can hear the crackle–
billions of mildly annoyed,
slightly groggy atoms sparking up,
ready to move a million miles
an hour. So, they do.
by the time I get both eyes open
she has already phased through
the wall, atoms kissing one another
on the way downstairs.
The kettle whistles eagerly
at her touch.
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