There is a secret staircase I

spiral down, when the front

stairs feel too exposed. In

the darkness of fledgling hours

I retreat. Tracing your love notes

with heart, soul, and mind. Sipping

the earthy tea of you testaments. Conversing

together like old friends. Turning over to you all that

I am.

Allowing sunrise to color in the black and white outline

of your form. Loving because you first loved me.