primitive proceedings

'good morning, sweet girl,"
as i rolled over into the
uncomfortable presence
of three bags of bones
and fur, warm from the heart
presently pumping in each
of their miniscule bodies;

good morning is
my favorite thing to hear
when it is formed by your specific
tone and pitch.
the feeling of your warmth
enveloping me sends my body
into fits of undeniable comfort.
it is as if you are a magical force -

and maybe you are.
delivered to me when we needed
each other most:
i, lost in a maze of self-inflicted inferiority,
and you, left wondering the damage
of your year's first real detrimental downfall.
we became each other's best bet:

a bet i wouldn't take on anyone else.
your beauty is astounding,
a snowy mountainous range of
good intention and love.
the only thing i know and love:
my cure for bad days and my
hope for better coming ones.