I bought a bag of oranges
For you today, as if I could make them into juice
In the morning
While you roused yourself, mussed
And groggy (as I imagine it)
And I, a hopeless early riser, would sit
By your sleepy side
And smooth your hair with sticky fingers
And pull you from your dutiful,
Do-it-for-everyone-else of a
Slumber life into
My separate
Bright, bittersweet-like-citrus
Side.
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