Him

Sunday morning
I wake up with kisses from behind.
The warmth of his breath on my cheek
gives me the feeling of certainty
from the obscure day ahead.
He is love.
He is the ghost that haunts me in a place
between sleep and wake.
The light between my sunrise and sunset.
He reminds me of the scent of mist in the morning
and the radiance of the moon at night.
And his voice…
Yes.
His voice is like a gentle breeze
that can take me to a place
where the clouds meet the earth.
He is him.
©Pancake Bunnykins

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