A First Kiss

A short poem about keeping love alive.

Morning comes to its senses
rainbows on the walls,
sunlight slants through blinds.
I open my eyes.
The man lying next to me
stirs, rolls over.
He has a moustache.
I look at him
lying there
peaceful
eyes still closed.
Sunlight doesn’t
bother him awake.
just plays across his nose.
He doesn’t stir.
Who is he? I wonder,
this stranger in my bed.
He looks strong.
Strong bones,
high forehead,
good square jaw,
laugh lines around his eyes
promise something more.
I like the line of him.
I wonder what he will say
when he awakes.
Will he want
a first kiss
to start the day?