My morning alone
Though you lay in bed with me
I’d rather sit here alone with my cup of coffee
Solitude
I tip toe quietly through my house
As if a mouse wishing not to disturb
I prefer the quiet and my thoughts
Over lying in bed your heavy arm draped over me
I sometimes wonder why I invite you here
Why I invite you inside of me
When I prefer myself over you
Over us
And that I prefer my mornings alone
Still and gentle
Not of the hussle and bustle of preparing for a guest
I’ve certainly grown to understand
You also don’t need to be here
That desire has flown away
Drifting past the morning clouds
Up to the morning sun
At its brightest light
That’d I’d rather have join me
My morning alone
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This is a fascinating character study of the narrator and the object. Thanks for sharing it. Beautifully done.