Good morning, Darling.

I want to cook eggs in this one really awesome way I know how to, for a girl on a Sunday morning.

I want to be that movie scene cliché, where I’m doing this in an oversized shirt and my underwear. And the underwear would be nice – clean and clean looking…

And I want to brew us coffee as sunshine streams through the kitchen as she sneaks up behind me and wraps her arms like breakfast burritos around my front; Nuzzling into my neck, tickling me with her bed hair, I stare at the…

Prepared scrambled dish, turn around to face her and kiss…those….perfectly seasoned lips, turning off elements whilst turning up internal heat;

These…

Bodies…

The coffee is poured and then sweetened and now I won’t at all feel like eating, this beating…the fleeting thoughts of dramatically clearing the table with one desire-dripping sweep,

… brushing hair out of eyes I keep

Looking.

Swimming in retinal oceans deep. Of passion, of lust, of insatiable urge I verge on maybe making a mattress from the weekend paper and lying naked on the crossword…

With her…

The girl who thinks my eggs are the best in this really awesome way.

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