When you love me in the morning,
Before the sun grows old
You love me completely.
You love me to a new me.
New like the frost
On the window
Cupping us in mid-dark
And the air, so crisp at this hour
That you love me
Under our feathered walls
Warm and almost sticky
Like a womb, I suppose.
Day old sugar, tongued subtle and bold
When you love me in the morning,
Before the sun can shine
Forehead whispers, nothing
Humming love songs
To our percussion lines
When candles turn to puddles
And fire into smoke—
Before the landlord visits
And your laughter is sold
When frost is our shelter
And feathers our home
In the morning, you love me—
In the morning you love me most.
