The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
How the World Should Be

	It was the interplay of sunbeams, creeping across the wall and finally onto the bed, that broke our sleep into a new day.  I wiped the sleep from my eyes and looked over to find you stirring, leaning towards the edge of the bed to stay in the last remnant of shade.  I slid over to nestle up behind you, putting my arm around your shoulder and hugging your warmth up against me.  You murmured, but I was still half asleep, and slid back into a dream for a few more minutes.  I woke as you turned onto your back, stretched your arms a bit, and yawned slowly as one does after a good night's sleep.  I pet the hair on your chest as you smacked your lips and drew in the first deep breath of the day.  As with most mornings, we rolled out of bed and marched down to the kitchen.  You went off to take a piss as I started a pot of coffee and gazed out the bay window to see the birds fluttering excitedly around the deck, waiting for us to bring them breakfast.  I cracked the window to let in the cool morning air as I washed our coffee cups, and toasted some English muffins to add to our breakfast tray.  You came out to the kitchen, walked up behind me, wrapped your arms around me, and whispered in my ear, "Good Morning, my Love."  Your arms slid down my waist, and you gave my cock and balls a morning grope through my sweatpants, as I reached behind and pulled your cheeks to grind your morning hardon against me.  You kissed my neck, and then grabbed the breakfast tray as I walked off to the bathroom and did my business.  I joined you on the deck as we lit our first cigarettes, enjoying the cool breeze and the warm morning sun.  The ducks had come up to the deck from the pond, and you made the rounds, feeding the bluejays and cardinals before you answered all the quacking and walked down the stone path to feed the koi and the goldfish.  I smiled as I felt the sun on my face, took a sip of my orange juice, and munched on the well-buttered English muffin.  As you returned from the pond, I shooed Francis, our cat, away from your muffin as she licked her lips and dreamed of butter.  Sheckles, our Australian shepherd, quickly took her place, having followed you out to the water and back, now hoping for a morning treat.  You sat down and took a long draft of coffee.  My mind was off daydreaming and pondering whether our east arbor of lemon trees would bear as well as they had last year.
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