And I Believed Him

He felt like the warm sun
creeping through my window
on a cold winter day.

Lazy Saturday afternoons
with him sprawled across my bed.
His breath like a whisper
against my neck as he fell asleep.

When he told me
how everything felt right,
being here
with me.

How he pictured a white dress,
and little toes and tiny fingers.

And I believed him.

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