Waking Up

I Write Her

A yawn escapes my body.

I choose to wriggle in the sheets a little more snugly.

But my mind stirs with thoughts. It determines not to go back into that density absent of light.

Slowly my consciousness moves into the direction of the rays.

The ceiling fan gives me my first instruction of the day.

Stretch!

I do, and a smile renders me awake.

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