Dream

We’re an infinity of caramel limbs and cream cotton sheets.

Curtains curtailing hail and sleet

the world knocking at the window of our whispered softness.

The fan heaters on, you said you were cold naked.

Perhaps we’ll have pancakes for brunch,

Times moved on since you last entered my arms.

When you return I’ll make you chai tea, the one

your hands taught mine.

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