Time For Morning

As strangers, we emerge into the cycle of anonymity and mystery.

Your eyes become my eyes as we try to explain the pattern of the stars in the night sky.

As strangers, we learn how to differentiate between the touch of need and the touch of risk.

Your lips become my lips as we try to give a rhythm to our hearts that slowly but distinctly enclose the silence.

As strangers, we each have a story to tell; A tragedy to present that quickly disappears into the past, just like cigarette smoke disappears into the cold December air.

Your legs become my legs as we try to control the speed of passion before it transforms into regret.

As strangers, we know we will never see each other again; but be not mistaken - we live those few moments as if they were our last.

Your hands become my hands as we lay and listen to each other breathe in the early morning hours.

And before I know it, the first rays of sunshine discreetly enter the room – night has gone.

I turn around to see your steady, peaceful breathing.

This will be over soon.

With this knowledge, I quietly lay with the wonder of human emotion.

You, however, wake and gently pull my hand towards your chest where you nestle it and fall back into unconsciousness.

In embrace, I realize it is time to go.

Without a word, I cover your shoulders and kiss you tenderly as more rays of sun begin to appear.

Morning has come, we are not ourselves anymore but strangers awaiting the set of another blinding white sun.

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