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literature

birdsong mornings

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daybreaksmiles

Published: May 6, 2014

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Literature Text

We used to lie on blankets of flax
and moonlight, woven thick and tight
with the summer breeze.
I found it hardest to get up those mornings,
when you were everywhere and I was tucked
someplace deep, deep inside.
You must have known; even as I rubbed dreams
and stardust from my eyes you tugged me under,
bound me tighter.
With chamomile still warm and thick
on your soft-palate you whispered
fireflies and freesia into my hair.
Slowly, softly, your dew-drop words
lulled me to sleep again.

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A little lighter than my usual work so I'd love some feedback/critique on this one

How so you feel about flow?
And do you think the line breaks are in the right places? (I agonized over that for a while, the lines just didn't want to split)