rushing through mornings

a waft of cold air floats through nose hair insulation and the coolness of the underside of my pillow is as comforting as the dark morning lightthe warmth of your body curled around mine

do I have to get up as soft wallows of violin strings press against my ear

bright lights crash cymbals, clothes flick across skin, swish swish against my gums, flick flick against my eyelashes, trip clack of boots drumming across the floor for the bracing cold of the morning air out and into plastic stiff vinyl and the bang honk rush of cars