Sunrise Disturbed

Sunrise disturbed,
I am awake and grumbled out
into the day some hours long
before my time to be astir .
But she, close by,
uncoiled,
a sigh against my skin,
a drowsy sprawl,
her hand in absent reach for mine,
still sleeps.
I turn to take in how
the length and lines of her,
her shoulder's curve above the sheet,
her nape,
at Eos' touch,
within day's dawning scarlet and its sorrel casts,
become melodious,
and ivory bright
and note this trespasser,
this dream depriving early light
is now a shining welcome thing.