The gold fabric of your dress falls so elegantly as it passes over your arms.

Pouring like fresh honey around your breasts,

the curves of your hips.

Swaying at its ends, dancing with each step you take, the good dress frames your form.

Mystical.

Every time you wear it, it warms my heart.

Maybe it’s because you deserve nothing less than the brilliant golden grace of the sun that shines in the fibers.

Or maybe it’s because it’s the same golden yellow from my dreams.

My dreams of you, the dreams from years past that still reflect in my mind.

Magical.

Hot summer months when my eyes grow light with the same honey gold.

They warm up just like my heart with that dress.

At least now I have another way to see you when I look at myself.

The trickles of water falling from your dark curls, the smell of fresh roses and lavender.

The smile on your face as you bounce out of the bathroom, looking at me.

I wonder if you ever see the golden haze in my eyes that I see you through during those sweltering dry months.

I wish you could see the golden angel that I place my stare on.

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