A Sunday Kind of Love

Sunday,

Slow, Slow, Pleasurable Ease.

The air smells of coffee, and pancakes.

My hand warm in your grip, I drift into an afternoon nap.

My eyes flit open, lazily

I breathe in a word.

Home.

A small word that echoes long after it leaves your lips.

Familiar, Sturdy, Warm.

A cat's purr wakes my creativity.

I step up to bat, with no fear of loosing, and no goal to win.

We play, we write, we cuddle.

And then,

you nudge me,

Ever so gently,

into next week...

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