Sexeteria

And I get to reach over, warm and still sleepy, languorous and cat-eyed, and lightly cup my hand against the roughness of your cheek, run my thumb against your always surprisingly soft lips. And the white, clean light of morning spills all around us like the fire from some sacred halo, and I can feel how any moment, you’re going to open your eyes and look at me. A look that says, “Baby, everything is just. right.’

And then you’re gone.

I want you to stay. I want what comes after.

Abre los ojos.

(photo credit: In bed by Xena B)