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Image for the poem Morning Wood

Morning Wood

I wake and feel his warmth against me.
I smile, thinking, you have to admire his work ethic.
Wasn’t it just six hours ago?
Yes, I think, and what love we made!
Maybe it’s a little case of morning wood and
I should leave well enough alone.

But no, I’ll not leave it alone. Life is short after all.
I roll over and taste his bitter saltiness,
thankful that he still holds my scent.
Written by Nizana (Lauryn)
Published
Author's Note
Remembering Saturday morning.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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