Remember that morning when I woke early to find you eating oatmeal and I looked outside and the light was so beautiful?

“It’s a Maxfield Parrish painting, ” I said. 

I sipped coffee, you ate oatmeal, and we watched the light seep into the backyard, saturating it like a golden liquid glaze.

Translucent, ethereal, calming.

This holy moment is wrapped in lace and tucked safely away in a corner of that part of me that is ours.