Sunday Morning

-for my husband

With unbuttoned
shirt sleeves and
gentle hands,
ring worn
but still gleaming
	on the left—fourth finger,
intent on my upturned
wrist, tongue clamped
	between teeth,
you manipulate
the bracelet clasp,
standing
	in socks and no pants
in the doorway of the
bathroom, your
comb wet and
abandoned
	on the sink.

Lisa T. Gregg is a writer, freelance editor, and cat mom. She enjoys religious and philosophical conversations with her husband over vegetarian brunch and also eating Taco Bell in bed while binging baking shows on Netflix.