...gradual mornings

when feeble morning light filters through the blinds pointing down upon our rumpled sheets and the soft warm forms under them, steeping the room in thin cool blue--a blue that seeps into skin, cloth, metal, wood. and my son's deep-throated giggles at discovering the skin just under his chin is ticklish as I do a spidery finger dance across it. lying in our bed, the light slowly growing around us.