Early Morning Hours.

It was a weekend famous for
early morning hours.
Hours in your bed when
your legs were knitted with mine.
The smell of my floral perfume still lingered
in your bedroom air and was
stitched into the fabric creating your pajamas.
Pajamas that covered your beautiful and tender body
I loved to hold close to mine.
Your arm encircled my breasts and
sent a warmness through my spine.
I love that you love to cuddle.
I turned and your eyelids slowly opened and
a smile enveloped your sleepy Sunday face.
Your sultry voice escaped from
your
morning lips.
A deep "I love you" whispered
in my ear and inside my brain thousands of times
until I rolled over again into a slumber.
Next to you.