A Goddess in the Morning
This morning I had a dream. I won’t describe what kind of dream it was, because your imagination is almost certainly better than mine is, and whatever you imagine is going to add that much more to the story.
Suffice it to say that when I awoke, there was a goddess beside me.
“Mmmmm,” she moaned, as she rolled closer to me, snuggling in deep. I pulled my arms tight around her and felt the vibration in her throat as she moaned again. “Mmmmmm.”
I freed a hand and brought it up to her cheek. Brushing her long red hair away, I gazed down into her relaxed face, more beautiful now than when I had seen it first, years ago.
As I caressed her face, running my hand from temple to cheek to lips to neck, she smiled ever so slightly. It was the simple curve of her lip, the almost imperceptible tug of a muscle that I caught, and I knew why I loved this goddess: it was the feeling I had now, the one I cannot describe. Yes, I was struck by her beauty, but also I was struck by the simple nearness of her.
I bent down, bringing my lips to her forehead. I left a trail of kisses, gentle and soft down the outside of her face, and ended on her lips.
Once more, the smile tugged at her lips, and once more she moaned that wonderful, “Mmmmm. . .”
I closed my eyes and slept, closer to my goddess than ever before.
