The rattling of the window in the wind wakes me. Slowly, I stretch away the night, my eyes shift from a darkness to a haze, my eyes shift into focus from slumber to reality. I hear the whirling hiss as the snow hits the screen I make my way to the kitchen to brew some sanity. Its aroma filled the room in a matter of seconds. In minutes I am nursing a cup by the window. The night has yet to surrender to dawn. Yet, to tuck itself away partaking in the much needed rest. If you look closely and catch it just right you can the snowflake's form before it dissolves against the glass.
It is the perfect day for cuddling. Her head nestled in that special place. My breathing slow and heart skip a beat so that we in unison. So that we are connected. Connected on the spiritual level, not just the profane, it is perfect morning for loving. A soft slow, lingering turns into a slow grind. To evolves into a breathless gasp that surrenders to a moan. A moan becomes a pant, then a scream, then contentment's sigh is release. Then fall into a deep coma like sleep.