The Morning Has You

The sun would always rise, or so I thought. I have never really considered the possibility that one day it would stop rising and then the world as we all know it, would just disappear. Yet that early morning, the sky was still fervently indigo, and the mighty sun was still nowhere to be spotted in the eastern horizon. 

From the balcony I was standing in, there was a bit cold feeling clinging in the weather, but the atmosphere for sure felt fresh. I hugged my arms tight, watching the gentle wind blowing all the trees and taking away some of their leaves, before eventually leaving them behind. I watched those leaves falling down to the empty yard like green confetti after a big orchestra. I have always loved falling leaves since forever ago, as to me it was like a grant poetic gesture. Was it about loss? Or solitude? Or an atonement to the past? 

I turned my head to the bedroom behind. The curtain stood still, and the indistinct ray of light had created a shadow on the floor. I could see that he's still sleeping, soundly; the very same peaceful face I had touched the night before. I smiled remembering every detail, and the same time, he opened his eyes, still sleepy, but I could feel that he's smiling too. 

He reached for his glasses, then still with only his boxer pants, he walked through the sliding door to the balcony and hugged me from behind. 

'It's cold here,' he said. But he's warm. He lied his chin on my shoulder. 
'It's beautiful here.' I said. I turned to him. He kissed me. 

It was the very first morning we wake up together.