In the morning when we start to wake
I trace your outline with my hands
like when we were kids, we learned to draw like that.
I am taking note
of the spine that holds you up
and the skin that holds you in
of the map of the lines of your brow
and the purse of your lips when you look at the clock.
And then, my head on your ribcage
your heart in my ear
and all the way through me.
We learn to feel, like that.