the sun reached under the blinds of the opened window
and tickled our toes, the protruding digits of all four feet
the laundry basket to the left of the door is overflowing
with the past week's wears and 23 unmatched socks
his side of the bed is in military time and 10 minutes faster
than my 3-digit digital fm radio alarm clock with snooze
and the night stand is hiding under a library of love notes
that i leave one by one for him to have for breakfast each morning
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