Morning Breath

To have faith in a woman is to have faith in god.

Yet, here I still sit at the edge of my own doubts, waiting for you to spill words you've already danced in my living room.

Gracious and flowing. Your body speaks of solace.

To be with you is to be adored by a reflection. Familiarity lay fond on my lips. You taste of home and feel of cool air through a midnight rain.

What is desire? If her flames don't ignite your dreams. What is passion? If her fruit is seedless. What is freedom? If she can't accompany.

Poise and Political. Your mind bleeds with kindness.

The calming after a storm, you'll ensure the grass stays green, the rainbows still fill with hue and the sun still glistens.

Like your eyes when we met.

Your love is a yawn. Contagious of your radiance. Your love is toe touching. Oddly embracing like a sunshine's hug. Your love, be a dandelion sneeze.

The blessing, be you. Yet, here I am hoping to wake up next a window of season's.

Falling for you, Springing for joy when the winter's bring blue's, your summer's bring more. You being the first sight of my day, the reason my first breath will always be taken away.

The second breath for breathing.

The third one for a kiss.

For your morning breath be a god-moment bliss.

By: LaShonda Midgett

© Shondawho