morning yarn

[luna]

This country breathes him for me
And every sigh is like merino wool
Aching to be soft and warm
But always scratching the skin
When things are clean and tender.

But note, this breath
Layered under cotton and silk
Becomes unseen comfort
Only to be peeled off in time
When I expose and stimulate.

Air or analogy
I inhale
Might he always be
against me.