As I wake, the light of the morning sun shines through your ivory drapes and sets a soft, yellow glow about the bedroom. It is earlier that it has any right to be, I should still be asleep and recovering from the night I have just spent with you. I can still taste the night on my tongue; a delicate sweetness remains from the bottle of wine, mottled with a distinct phantom of “you.” The light caress of your linen sheets reminds me of your touch on my skin. I smile and roll over to see if you still slumber or if you have risen for the day.
Your side of the bed is empty, but warm to the touch and now I can hear the shower sputtering to life. I throw the covers from my body and roll out of bed to join you. The door of the bathroom is cracked and the steam has begun to roll forth. I stop just before entering to take a moment to just look at you… to really look at you. I can see the silhouette of your body through the glazed glass sliding door of your shower. You roll your head back and let the hot water pour over your chest and neck, then turn to wet your hair and back. Steam boils over the top of the shower and envelopes the room. I enter quickly and secure the door behind me to retain the heat.