Winter mornings

Despite the broken blind on the Velux

no light creeps in.

The pain behind my eyes makes the day

feel like it isn’t ready to begin.

Feet so heavy as they hit the ground

the carpet makes way, like snow.

Find the stop button for the alarm

stuck in unrepenting flow.

The click of the kettle, the small blue light

breaking through the dark,

giving structure to surfaces,

cold and stark.

Standing there in my pants, I feel a shiver,

I could turn on a light.

Unready to break the illusion,

against the day, I fight.

Two teas in hand, the slightest ochre

creeps in now.

I place a mug on your side table, your eyes

don’t open. I kiss your brow.

Suddenly it’s all ok.