The light is bright, white, but it feels golden. It's slipping in from the window above filling this room extracting the last bit of night as it consumes the space. The day pours over your skin, lighting the places I held onto in the dark. My eyes follow a curve to your shoulder and I can see each and every one of your freckles. I never noticed how dark they are. Brown, deep, here to stay. They cover you. They seem to speak, to tell bits of your story. I try to memorize them before they write any more. I hope they can give these moments justice. Full chapters. As you turn from your side to your back I watch how your chest rises and falls with your breath, steady. You're so solid in your sleep. Eyes tight. Quiet. Sure. So sure. I wish you could see it. I like you like this, dancing between asleep and awake, resisting the day. Right here. Right next to me. Here, your equal parts true and how only I can see you. Its secret. It's mine. I resist too. I hate to say goodbye to the night, but in this brief moment, here, in the first light, makes the day okay.
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