A first morning.


I wake up after too-little sleep, snuggled into my warm bed with its quilts and pillows, and settle into a book brought to me in courtship. This is the new year… and although I’m tired, I am satisfied in this moment of abundance. To lose oneself in Istanbul writ on a page, while awaiting the lover who will soon come through the door is to feed romantic inclination on a number of levels. An opulence of imagination and desire soon met at the sound of the front door being opened and closed. The cool outside air puffs down the hallway, followed by the sound of footsteps coming towards my bedroom door.

3 thoughts on “A first morning.

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