Before the Rest

Before the Rest

The sky trades its sherbet pinks and oranges for a steady blue.
The soft froth at the lip of my mug turns darker,
dissipates like the sleepy wisps of clouds above,
becomes indistinguishable from the coffee I sip
that becomes indistinguishable from me.

I hold both:
The sky.
The mug.

I hold many things, and I hold you
close,
warm,
breathing with you.

I kiss your neck
wondering if you can feel how loved and supported you are.
Knowing it whether you feel it or not.

There is always space for you here.
There is always love for you here.
There is always this space in this stream of love
for you.

Like there is always this sky holding clouds and colors
Like there are always hands holding warm mugs of coffee
Like there is always the possibility of something magnificent.