When good mornings fade into new horizons.

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One day our good mornings shall

become a distant moment of the past.

Birds will still sing a symphony

of life to the cloudless sky and

the sun will ascend anew into

emerald blues. The outside world will continue

without us, thoughts crossing oceans,

intent skimming moon beams

and desire burning on the edge of suns

descent.  Such a gulf will silently

implode and explode as a vortex

of everything becomes a meaningless

whisper void now of need….And we will

search for those all knowing eyes as a

storm roars through our veins, and we

will search among the rapid beating

of our hearts…But we’ll not look so far.

Tender lips, tongue tips between

coffee sips and ….dancing hips, we’ll bid

good morning with a loving kiss, in loves

finest tongue.  Kissing good morning

beneath a single ascending sun.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image Karen Hayward  ©2017