The mirror was where our eyes first met that morning. Half a sight of mine was enough to catch your conspiring gaze. The lines I was drawing to dress my eyes went awry as I saw you, languorous and longing, stepping out of bed to make your way to me. Your sleepy eyes took in all of me - the shining eyes, wet hair, suppressed glee and all things that only a lover can perceive. You hinted that undoing has a beauty of its own and I looked to see if the mirror agreed. My pleats followed one another into a silken heap and you then wrapped me in your arms...
The mirror was where our eyes met later that morning. Half a sight of mine was enough to catch your spent gaze. The lines I was drawing to dress my eyes...
