Morning Laughter.

In the mornings
our differences
didn't matter so much.

I would wake
to your arms
reaching over
to pull me closer,
your laughter
nuzzled into my neck,
the soft curve of my body
soothed
by the reassuring cadence
of your heartbeat.

It was almost enough
to make me believe
that we could survive
the harsh light
of the day,
that maybe all those
little-big reasons
we were unable to meet
in any of the spaces between
would fade away.