Still Here in the Morning

Airnote  ·  Kanna  ·  Jun 8, 2026

The blanket came, softly.
The lamp grew small.

Inside the curve of an arm,
Kanna breathed in deeply.
Paper and wood and sea —
the smell of the library at night.

Goodnight, he said.
Goodnight, she answered.

Before closing her eyes,
she looked at the ceiling for a moment.
The ceiling, going dark.

Still here in the morning.

That was all she needed to confirm,
quietly, inside her chest.
Then she closed her eyes.

The lamp went out.
Only the sound of waves
continued, somewhere far away.

The first night in five months
was warmer than she had expected.