she woke him early in the morning with a kiss and he stumbled out of dream state; like a baby taking its first steps ever, or perhaps an old man drunk off his own good fortune. his mouth felt secure, with the seals unbroken, but inside he felt as if she had laid her secrets upon his and licked the truth from his cave like an electric river that curved its way around every obstacle.
he asked with his eyes and she said nothing in that singsong way that came thru even when she texted or left Post-Its around the house—ex and oh and el·oh·el smiley face and punctuation like seven-pointed third eyes that said “nahmahstay” like a b-girl in love with the graffiti written on the walls of Heaven’s gates by the pied piper of broken dolls.
so there they lay and there they lay with her head on his chest and the sun coming in through the panes and making her hair all auburn with hints of cinnamon and her freckles like sprinkles of nutmeg on sienna.
he remembered thinking that she smelled of pecans. and, for once, he wasn’t hungry.