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Maybe we'll be spooning.
I'll crack some line like, "Yeah, but who finished off my dessert at that fancy restaurant tonight after we went to the movie?..."
She'll turn, illuminated by the glow of a nearby lamp and I'll think, "Damn she looks perfect in this light. She's the most striking woman I've ever met."
She'll raise one eyebrow as if to say, "Are you saying I finished your dessert? I only had a bite! God I love you..." and a sly smirk will unravel itself across her lips.
We'll push each other deeper into an embrace, legs all intertwined, dog asleep next to the bed. Life would be perfect in that moment.
Crystal clear.
Pure.
We have become one, feeling our hearts softly beating underneath our sweaters.
The smell of hair, of hands. Of happiness.
Then I'd break wind and she'd shove me off the bed.
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