hues of soft blues

I imagined an evening of the everyday,
how it was
what I said
(how I felt)

we are going to bed,
the ceiling fan is on

I ask to turn it off,
for us to fall asleep in silence

(so as to watch you slumber at five,
to feel the soft of your skin
underneath my still hand,
to hear the birds of summer
lead our way into the dawn,
to listen to your breath thicken with pleasure
as you are awoken by my lips along your spine)

I am tired and aching some, that's why
(absolutely worn down by grief)
good night love
see you in the morning