Cuddled in a hope

Here I sit in a old 60s blanket. One handed down through 4 generations. Still as soft and comfortable as the day it was bought.

Copper strands pulled tight into a ponytail. Curls falling and whipping bare, pale neck. Tickling a smile upon soft pink lips.

Freckles wrinkle as the button nose crunches into a giggle. Ah such gentleness in my sigh. A different wave of emotions overcomes me as the night falls, slowly to a dark blue.

My eyes of cornflower blink without tortoise shell rectangular frames. Light kisses my sun glowing skin. Dancing the scattered freckles to areas of peace.

My mind wanders to a time when hugs were abundant and joy creased the lines upon my face. A kindness the heart and mind are Co parents in. Such a calm.

The reading of thoughts in my head drain upon electronic note cards as the memories find the well oiled wheel.

Time of yesterday casually is played before me and I sigh. Releasing the smirk hiding behind closed lips. Indeed a splendid experience to hold onto. One I can place under grip and continue to find love from moment.

The first time to be capable of relaxing. First day I got to experience the thrill of compassion in the air and the branding of the sun. Such an adventure.

I will hope for more.  Continuing my quest for tiny minuets of laughter. Oh here, hold my hand. Dance with me. Listening to the cooling night air whistling around. Carefully I dare ask for one lasting impression.

A hope. A kiss.

Haha a slight dare indeed. But I continue to select that as a hope. Silly but I am only being me.