I want to dance with you in the morning
when loosely we spin and stumble and start
When nothing looks as living
as slow breaths and waking hearts
When work and play are nothing
and night is cradled close and sung to sleep
When we can barely clutch our coffees
and company's all we can manage to keep
I want the morning to belong to us
hung-over from the beauty of slumber
reveling in the light of beginning
dwelling in the constant effect of after
