This Is What I Want

I only want your morning’s stillness

Bed sheets placid against your body

New light on your back
Swaying gently as you breathe.

I only want a moment
The one that hardly counts, save to us both.
You wake, recalling the details of your life – still, but conscious.
Your first minutes predestined by the pillow on which you slept.
I only want the space that follows
The decision you make that extends past last night’s accommodations
That reaches towards me in a white cotton sea
That tells me you want nothing more than to comply with your lucky geography

Until we both get hungry (for lunch).