Sunday, September 28, 2008

Shells crack on the side of the frying pan

Yolks dance across the heated surface

And you’re still asleep.

The sun begins to peek its way through

The clouds

And your arms are outstretched above your head.

I can’t hear it from the kitchen,

But I can feel your sigh satisfaction

From a good night’s sleep

As you slowly turn over

And nestle yourself back in the sheets.

The toaster pops

And the kettle whistles,

Reminding me of all the reasons I love you.

Seedless rye

And chai tea,

Every Sunday for the past three years

So many things change…

But never that.

We’ll always have our breakfast in bed.

I’ll crack a joke on the side of the road

A smile dances across your face

And I’m still dreaming.

The world begins to spin

Out of control

And my arms are outstretched

Like a young child dizzy on the playground.

You can’t hear it from where you’re standing

But my heart is beating faster

from the adrenaline rush

as I quickly hit the ground

and fall back to sleep.

The alarm clock sounds

And the morning birds chirp

Reminding me of all the reasons I love you.

Waking up to kisses

And the scent of your body…

Everyday for the past three years.

So many things change…

But we’ll always have

Our breakfast in bed.

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