Dust

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Dust particles float along beams of light
that roll off the morning sun, poking through an open blind.
Early morning would have to be my favourite time of day,
waking by his sleeping face,
forever is a happy place.
He lies along the crisp white sheets
peacefully dreaming,
a n d I lie amongst these same white sheets,
blissfully beside him.
Soon the waking world will start;
Buses will pick up waiting bigoted passengers,
as will all the trains.
Baristas will start brewing coffee blends,
a n d men will twist a variety of coloured ties,
while women will try straightening them.
For now
there is nothing else
but him
sharing my warm bed.





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