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