dawn.

It wasn't yet 6am but dawn was rising and through a small crack in the curtains she bathed your soft skin in golden sunlight. You can find beauty in all the little things; especially in the mornings when your mind isn't fogged with the troubles daytime brings; the way you leave hairs on my pillow to remind me you were there or the twitch in your leg as I imagine what adventures you might be experiencing in your head. You ask me every night before we drift away to watch over you in your dreams the same way I know you watch over me when we're awake.

I won't wake you, not yet, but I'm already smiling at the thought of you rolling over and scrunching your little face at me as if both happy to see me and annoyed you're not still asleep. You will tell me of your dreams, I will tell you of mine. Sunday is always our favourite morning: the smell of fresh coffee lingers in the air, I make it just the way you like it, every time, without hesitation. Birds chirp from outside the window as we sit and watch the rest of the world wake up with us. Dawn stetches her wings ever further and cascades beauty onto the dew-kissed fields and rivers and trees for as far as we can see. We remain thankful for this life we have found together and hold no resentment in our hearts - be at peace and never take it for granted. We never think about yesterday, we never think about tomorrow. Only today. Only us.

An ode to our Sunday's curled up in bed wishing we were exactly nowhere else.