Dazed

I woke up at 4:30 am today to the pelting of the rain on my window. In the coldness of the room, I felt your arm around my waist and your breath on my nape. I turned around to look at your beautiful face and gaze at your long lashes, your not-so-perfect nose, and your red lips. Your eyes were closed but even then, I knew they held all the beauty of your soul. I took in all the beauty that was before me, illuminated by the light coming from the lamppost outside the window.

I felt your hand caress my arm, my shoulder, my neck, my face then you planted a soft kiss on my lips. I anticipated a beautiful dance to happen, with the rain outside playing its music. You have always considered the rain sexy.

I heard footsteps inside the room and turned to see a child that had your long lashes, your not-so-perfect nose, and your red lips. She had tears on her cheeks that reminded that today, I would look at your face beneath the glass covering of your casket for the last time; that starting today, there would be no more long lashes, not-so-perfect nose, and red lips to gaze at; that starting today, there would be no more dance when the rain comes while we are in bed.