In The Morning

Will you still be there in the morning?
How about once the sun comes up and kisses the ground with such graciousness?
Or when the it gives the last kiss to us as the moon rises like an eagle?
Will you still be there?
In the morning?
In your sleepy, doe eyed, self?
I’ll provide the pillows, blankets and the love.
Just tell me.
Will you be there when the fall of us has come tumbling down?
Or when we’ve aged to a fragile set of bones?
How long will you stay?

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