It was in the blush of the muted tie dye sunrise
Where our breath exhaled puffs of vapour
It was the screaming hush
The scratching of your jacket as you moved closer
That brought on thoughts of broken porcelain dolls
Hollow as they were neglected
Placed upon a dusty shelf
So irrelevant in circumstances of love
With fumbling fingers I outlined the indent of your dimples
Curiosity leading me to kiss the delicate skin of your eyelids
Realizing, too late as always,
that the day had begun