To Beautiful Mornings

The subtlety of it all

The toasted flesh of a brazenly cool breeze dispatched on the curves of my hairline. Swooning feverishly on the laps of my forehead.

My morning has begun and the sun will soon rise. In the darkness even the quiet is so faint, not even a single sound dares to whimper at the sight of a forgotten stranger who walks by.

This time of the morning is a moment of reverence. A beginning of an ending and a renewal of day.