The sun begins its daily ritual of dancing across your face, slowly twirling its way past your eyes before gently ceasing on your lips.

You stir and a collection of memories from the night before flood my mind:

The way your lips brushed against my collarbone as if they were painting an exquisite piece of art, how your fingertips traced every inch of my back as though connecting constellations in the stars, and the faint scent of your sweat sending my senses into overdrive.

You smile and we succumb to a morning full of passionate adoration.