where you are is where I will be

I look around the room, and it is empty; bare walls, bare floor, bare space. Big white box, nothing in it.

I close my eyes, and the area becomes filled with furniture and odds and ends. A painting coated with red and blue and green sits in the corner.

I see a tuft of blonde hair and tan feet sticking up on the couch. A long body is concealed from my view. I discover its restful state as I walk across a hardwood floor towards the kitchen. I want to wake my golden god with kisses on the forehead, but I dare not disturb the dreamer. Light falls in from the window. The beauty of the moment can not (and did not) go undocumented: