The golden light illuminates her. It makes me wish we could have woken up together. Left the curtains open, so I could lie in bed and watch the morning sun dance across her upturned nose, watch its rays highlight the tops of her full cheeks. She’d be warm and soft, and she’d smell like lavender. I’d pull her closer and stare at her for so long that when I closed my eyes, the shape of her would be burned on the back of my lids.
