TOUCH ME IN THE MORNING

TOUCH ME IN THE MORNING 
We had been friends for a few years.

Social, just likes and hearts to start with, but our friendship developed, became stronger.

We shared happy times and comforted each other through sadness.

Our messages become more frequent.

Pictures of smiles and daftness.

Fun.

You sent me music. I loved that. Your taste.

Then we met.

Just friends.

You sang to me on the train.

We hugged, no more.

Fell asleep, my arms around you, your jet black hair against my cheek.

Listening to music.

Then as we awoke, Diane Ross played. You turned, eyes sparkling, we kissed.

Your lips melted my heart and as the words “touch me in the morning” were sung.

I did.