The sun diffuses through the window covering, gently warming the room with its golden glow I tip toe in, unwilling to disturb you. You lie on your side, turned towards the indent where I had slept holding you, our skin touching and feeding our souls’ craving for contact. As usual, your hair has a life of its own, spread across pillow and sheet, obscuring part of your face yet letting the beauty through, like the window coverings and the dawn.
I place your mug on the stand as I have so many times before, and turn to gaze upon you as I have a thousand times and more, studying the curves of your cheek and body as you sleep, calm and undisturbed by dreams or the world. The slow rhythmic rise and fall of your breath entrances, holding me in a spell that I don’t want to escape from, that I am unwilling to break.
Yet I must.
I lean in, my breath light upon your forehead like your hair and kiss you like a butterfly on a flower: barely felt physically but carrying the full weight of nature as I restrain myself to avoid ruining the peaceful scene before me, a dream made incarnate. My lips skip up to your ear like a fairy’s dance that leaves no trace but gossamer sensations of sweetness. Softly the words slip out, natural and flowing “good morning mon amie.”
I gently kiss your neck, as you smile in your sleep.