Monday Mornings
The dreaded Monday morning was something I never thought I’d miss. You curled up in my arms, your harlow gold hair spread out like the rising sun. Everything we did was poetry, the way we touched, the way we spoke, the way we shared our love, it was all so beautiful. I remember the first Monday, the one that changed it all. You felt like home when I held you for the first time and it felt like a feeling I hadn’t felt my whole life. Always out of place, but in you I found it. The Monday Mornings we once shared are no more, but the feeling of home, of happiness, of having a place still exists. You are my first love, and the love I will never stop loving.





