Drag myself from my bed. Around twenty past six. Get my kids up, make breakfast. One egg, two toast, three Weetabix. . And as I sit down I look up. And you're standing in the doorway, sun at your back.
Morning light don't scratch my eyes. Just let me wash up on a shore. I used to have the strangest dreams. But they don't come here anymore. . My duvet's laid out like an atlas.