Morgan in the morning

He's asleep, sprawled across my bed, legs filling up most of the space, arms hugging the pillow shoved over his eyes.

It's 8 am and I've been awake for a while, we've made love and he's passed out on the pillows, claiming that one last drop of sleep before the day hits.

What is it about this person that takes hold and grabs my heart?

There are moments I appreciate the freedom between us--and then moments I want to hold him and not ever let go.



(And yes, M, I know you are reading this.)