The brightest rays of the morning
Comes not from the sun
Through the blinds it shines
The sweetest sounds I hear
Comes not from the lark
Whose songs find these ears of mine
That which makes me feel alive
Comes not from my first breath
As I open my eyes
It is your face, exhale, and presence
By my side as I awake
In which I find the most exquisite surprise
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