You wash your face with sunlight
And the brightness of the morning
Runs through your hair.
I see it trickle down your back in
Tiny rivers, collecting gold dust
At the nape of your neck.
Gleaming radiance ripples
Along your shoulders
As you stretch your arms wide
And let each drop find itself
A home on your fingertips –
Before you turn, and laugh,
And with a flick of your wrist
Sprinkle glowing droplets
All over me.
@jsmorgane April 2020