Image Credit: Schiele's Autumn Sunrise I

My lips turned just a touch to skin.

The morning mist,

a heartbeat off the river,


and all the duvets shivered,


felt knees and toes tight curled

against his back,

a pillowed arm,

a little hitch of breath

to crinkle up the calm

in breathless ripple.

A floating exhale of a moment,