Kaliméra
Slow breaths lead to slow movements. The morning hours are slow for us. It's these gentle moments before the day begins that we can appreciate the beauty of the life we've been given. His breathing remains placid and slow; undisturbed. I prop myself up on my elbow to admire him at his most peaceful. He's impossibly attractive to all who meet him. His olive skin, his thick hair, peppered with glimmering silver, his muscular form, all make him stand out, but it's his striking eyes, now closed with much needed slumber, that truly make him a sight to behold. Those grayish-blues hold you in their grasp, like the calm before the storm. I stretch slowly, disentangling myself from his grasp. He shifts ever so slightly, but remains asleep. I know I am not the only woman to ever fall asleep in those mighty arms, but he always has the words to sooth over the savage jealousy, and it was quelled long ago by my own lustful flings. The windows are already open, allowing a warm b...