Sleepover

He's sleeping. 
Chest rises and falls per breath, the small concave by his sternum catches a shadow.
The curtains are open and early morning sunlight spills in.
We exist separately now, but I was there with him just one sharp moment ago. 

I walk the dog.
When I get home, he is still asleep.
His messy curls gleam in the light.  Copper and warm brown.  A little gold.  A little silver.
It's teasing me, those curls know I am not allowed to crawl back into bed.

I get in the shower and pretend he's not there.
His long legs are not tangled in my blanket.
His broad shoulders are not pressed against my yellow sheets.
If that were the case, I'd have to join him.
It's just good manners. 

So - I am dressing for work.
Now he is awake.
Those beautiful gulf sea eyes filled with dreams.
And this is my favorite part. 

Good morning, sunshine.