I hear it.
Before I know what it is.
My foot tapping excitedly.
Lending back-up percussions to a song that hasn’t begun yet.
I just love starting the day this way, you know?
I look forward to it as I drift off to sleep each night, in position for future spoonings.
Today is extra special though.
Your soft hair finding it’s natural resting spot, pulled over on your left shoulder.
Fittingly willful curls will be applied soon.
Pre-make-up freckles frolicking. Nose to cheeks. Fighting for the prime location near the dimple.
Oh, the dimple.
I try to get you to smile on purpose, you know.
I try to get you to smile on purpose so I can make it appear.
There it is!
Pink plaid button-up shirt. Say “howdy” to the world’s cutest cowgirl.
Eyeliner nudging me to get my attention.
You can’t improve on perfection, but you can show it off.
Genetics decided to save you time in the morning.
Or to treat me.
They somehow feel even better then they look.
I’ll kiss them again.
You don’t hear it yet.
Your eyes feel it first.
Left hand in the air.
My cheeks hurt.
I rub the stubble, but never turn my attention from you.
I wish the song was longer.
I wish all the songs were longer.
You lean forward.
It forces me to do the same.
Love’s pulley system.
Sip of coffee, while your head moves side to side and eyes smile and…
I feel it.
That all too rare realization that you’re living in a memory as it’s being formed.
Today is your birthday.
I am extremely lucky to be part of it.
I hope it is absolutely amazing.
I rub my hand over my stubble again.
Never turning my attention away from you.