Bride at Rest

I open your door slowly

and find you sprawled on your bed,

eyes closed,

surely dreaming of high-heel shoes and bouquets,

your white wedding dress on top of rosebud sheets,

your old pink blanket snuggled near your face.

I can't resist;

I get the camera,

and I wake you up with its flashes,

I giggle at you,

I smell your round Baby Annie cheeks

while they are still.

And even though you are not one for cuddling

(and neither am I),

I climb into your bed,

get tangled in your long legs,

and stroke your lovely hair as you wake up

because I can't resist that,

either.