Open breasted before window view, morning sun and inner shade of room making mirror of window’s outward face, she looked upon the greening world. Already, near all of her lawn was changed. From gaze of lawn, sight drew near to bough of a redbud tree touching soft to window’s pane, barren of the winter limbs budded but not yet bright in break.
She dreamed of its color burst again, its fuchsia bright and the morning light to the song of birds outside—a favorite and treasured season within season that lived for her every year.
Behind the mirror-make of sun, she budded in touch of sun’s warmth and thought. She liked the feel, she liked the sight, way by it she felt: beautiful, radiant—expanded in spirit and sun.
Turning, she found and saw him too in room—admiring in adore the natural beauty embodied in her then.
She felt his love and a warmth from eyes, tinge-change of her skin at being seen in so—warmth and sense rising in her then and rose hueing breasts around budded view, all free for him to see.
Smiling meek, she ran her fingers in comb and tracing of her hair, threading back to place fallen strands beside her face.
It needn’t be deep, pretended more profound than the pleasure and love he lived at sight of her bared and open beauty. He did not make it more but spoke simple and spirit-truth aware she already knew.
“I hope you never forget or take for granted how amazingly beautiful you are.”
His smile glowed in ray-catch of the sun, his face made gold as her body’s rose in grace of morning’s changing touch.
He moved to her. He kissed her lips—delicate and soft—slow strengthening to deep as he cradled her open front, holding to rose-hued shape as fingers, light, trace-touched to her budded ends.
“I love you,” he spoke in kiss’ break, his hands still to her bared and free. “I love you,” he spoke again, words falling back to kiss of beginning’s gentle way.
He left her then, kiss and love’s linger still to lips, to morning’s muse. Touched of the love, touched of the sun—rosed and risen—body and spirit expanded on.