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A Series of Strung-Together Saturday Mornings

Curled up in an old t-shirt
That you left here by accident.
It still smells of your skin.
My pillows and blankets hold the scent that is unmistakably you;
Giving me the impression that you’re still here.
That you’ve just stepped out of the room for a moment,
Returning soon to fold me back up in your arms,
And rock me back to sleep.

My only wish today
Is for a month of strung-together Saturday mornings,
Spent wrapped up in you.
No afternoons, no evenings.
Just the wonderful morning hours of comfortable silence,
Beautiful exhaustion,
Simple smiles,
& the sounds of happiness hanging still in the air.

I want to spend forever in moments like this; with you.

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A Series of Strung-Together Saturday Mornings by 


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