All morning I watched
a thin arm
of sunlight
pick its path
between branches
until it finally
rested its warm fingers
on your leg.
Then I gazed
into the perspiration
glistening on your thighs
until I saw visions
of your future:
You have beautiful children.
And while you sunbathed,
I connected
all your moles
with invisible lines
then colored in
all the animals
it revealed on your skin.
And now that I’ve named
every freckle
on your face
I can get up
to fold the laundry.