Good morning, gorgeous.
It's only an hour until noon
basks in through the
hazy windows, though.
What are you doing in those
oversized white cotton jumper
and loose gray pajama
pants? Gosh, look at
those luscious coffee locks
sprawled all over the floor.
Are you tired, baby?
Why are you flashing me
that cherubic sunshine smile?
You must have slept
well last night, haven't you?
Hey, you are not supposed
to roll on the floor; the tiles
are absolutely cold and I don't
want your injured waist to be
flexed forcefully by the
flat surface. But you are being
extraordinarily radiant right
now, so maybe I'll halt the
playful scolding. Oh, why
are you hiding behind the
thin sheets of satin curtain,
now? Does the random act
amuse you? It sure does,
listening at how a chuckle
echoed around the
insipid walls. Come here,
sweetheart. I want to try and
see through the curtain like
what you did, too.
You want to cuddle the day off
on the floor with me?
Sure, my love.