“Baby wake up”
“If you wake up I’ll make you breakfast”
and finally a little stir. A grunt and a stretch and a wipe of the eyes,
I get a squint and a half smile that seems to echo the words of good morning without actually saying them. I kiss his cheek
in an effort to not disturb him too much,
give him the opportunity to stretch and yawn himself awake. “What
do you want for breakfast?” “Coffee or tea?”
A sly grin and that little hype in his voice I get “tea” for an answer and it’s in these moments
that I feel the warmth in my heart. As I shuffle off to make tea in a cup of my choosing
a few yawns and some whiffs of the brewing chai, I make
my way back to a white sheeted bed and the man of my dreams curled up in my sheets still half asleep. Taking in
the postcard in front of me
I dodder up to the bed “can you still up for me please?” and I present the steaming mug on top of his chest and into his capable hands.
Curled up next to him with a complimentary mug of my own, I get to
bask in the simplicty of a cup of tea in a bed with the right person and sun streaming through the slant of closed blinds and fluffy bed sheets.