Everyone wants morning sun,
sliding quietly through breezy
currents of sleep and confusing
swirls of loitering dreams. Those
first whispered rays are welcome,
windows thrown wide to expose
ankle, hip, thigh and sigh to a gentle
warming day. But to want her at full
force, the undiluted blaze of noon,
brilliant, brash and brimming burn:
that is love, beyond the yearn.
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