Untitled - December 30, 2001

In the early hours of the morn,
when the warmth still cocoons the world,
there is a silence that fills the room,
like a favourite blanket from yesteryear.

A gradual shift
from slumber to wakefulness
begins with the faintest of whispers
in the air.

Each moment of minute pleasure
slides into the next,
until it becomes
a literal cascade of heat
against the still cool
outside.

Once more,
the morning silence is broken
by a single gasp
of pleasure/pain
hanging heavy
in the air.