I want to watch you dress in the morning. The shirts lined up in the wardrobe, blue on Thursdays since you were a child. Shaving at the sink bare-chested as the water turns foamy and you ask if I'd like a cappuccino. I dry your face with a towel then breathe the soapy smell of your jaw. The hairs at the base of your throat are curled up against
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-Tim-
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