Tuesday, 5 December 2017

Call Me Lover

by Francesca West

Call me lover 
First thing in the morning.
In the clouds 
I hear your booming voice
and feel your kisses
rain on my cheek.
In the early sun
The colors brighten
in soft pastels
to rest gently on me.
A blanket of which
I am encapsulated
in this hug of morning light.
He calls me lover,
While I still have closed eyes,
First thing in the morning,
In the gentle stretches
and half dreamed reality of night.
Birds fluttering on my skin
singing sweet songs
of summer to me,
and I’ll sleep in love
another hour or two.
He says good morning,
calls me lover,
to leave me wet with dew.
A sun, 
always shining rays
that rise over my body
and then light the day. 

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