You should start each day inside me

You find yourself drawn to something undeniably cute about the way that mouth curves into a half-awake smile, still warm from sleep, still soft from the night before.

You want to press your lips to that throat, feel the slow pulse there, let your hands learn every inch of skin before the morning gets loud and demanding and pulls you both away from this.

You already know this is the kind of body you could spend hours inside of, unhurried, deliberate, taking your time until the light shifts and neither of you can remember when it started.