(National Poetry Month HitRECord challenge)
Tug you close
in the morning
news murmuring on the radio
me murmuring in your hair.
Wrap those arms around me,
hold me in the early sunlight
just pushing aside the curtains
in our warm little lover's room.
Skin to skin, but baby, I gotta go,
when the daily bread calls.
Still, joined at every joint, every pore,
every cell, we are, together.