an ache in the morning
empty stomach feeling
and the flat aspect of the blink-in curve
seems steep, a hard climb
from agile dreams to sleepy waking
an ache that vacillates
with a greater laziness, for there are steps
and unclimbed steps
between me and warm steam
it matters little, the form of the warm
it could as well be tea or latte, for the ache
has an accustomed cure
pure satisfaction, a warmed-over smile
and then, the ladder of morning becomes
a glide step across a dance floor
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