I miss waking up to you nestled across my arm.
Your back exposed as the sheets lay across just below your back dimples.
My hand slowly brushing your long wavy brown locks aside and placing itself on your neck.
Running my fingers down your spine, gently slaloming as I go in and out of each vertebras.
Eventually gliding down from the summit, they make their way to the back dimples.
A slow figure of eight motion on your soft caramel skin causes you to stir.
You turn your head and face me.
Your big beautiful eyes open and hold mine.
My world comes to a stand still as your grin slowly grows to a smile.
That moment I am lost; gone with it the concept of time.
I miss those mornings.
I miss those dimples,
and I miss those eyes.
I miss you.