Our bodies burn like flames in an oven, so we kick off the covers. I slip my arm around her waist and press her body close to mine. She holds my hand to her chest, fingers wrapped around fingers, legs wrapped around legs.

The morning light comes in blue and soft and subtle through the window, and the stars begin to fade.

I want to hold her like this under a tree in the summer and pass the time in her company, alive to every moment we’re together. I want to hold her like this when the cars and streets are buried under snow outside, so we may truly know what it is to be warm and comfortable. I want to run my finger along the softness of her face, so I may learn every landmark and feature, and never forget. I want to read to her my favourite books on lazy Sunday afternoons, so I can take her to where they’ve taken me. I want to feel her breath against my skin, the breath that gives her life, and me joy. I want to wake up to find she’s not away in another bed, but next to me, lost in slumber, for there can be no other such simple happiness.

This is where I’m perfectly content, lost in a moment when time has stopped and nothing else matters.

But I know it won’t last forever. She’ll soon be gone. I won’t be the one to do these things with her, the one to love her the way she was meant to be loved, the one to love her as deeply as she deserves. There’s no use in thinking about it now.

The one who inspires me to create wonderful things, to make beauty as I see it in her, so that others may share in this feeling. If I had a million words to describe her grace, it still wouldn’t be enough.

I could be sad, but I’d rather be happy instead.

So as the sun begins to rise, I indulge myself a little longer, and hold her closer before drifting off to sleep.

Babies seem to have a different expression every second, and the expressions are so innocent. They hide nothing. I like to think each expression reveals the drifting thoughts going on in their tiny little brains. Rather difficult to photograph because the face they wear when you press the shutter release button is invariably different from the one you get.

Rosella here is half-Persian, half-Caucasian. Aside from being so cute you could chew her cheeks off, you can already tell how beautiful her mixed blood is going to make her.

Weekdays

• I wake up, turn my alarm off, and before I do anything else, I put on some music
• I make my food for work in the order of most to least time consuming to prepare. So currently it’s drink (smoothie), then lunch (sandwich), then breakfast (buttered raisin cinnamon bagel).
• When I get into work, I walk in the back, say “mornin’” to the regulars on the way to my office
• After entering my office, the first thing I do is plug in my iPod and put on some music
• I’ll clean my desk, check my e-mail, turn on the photocopier, etc. but before I get into any serious business, I clean my mug, make some tea, and check Slashdot over breakfast. This is probably the pinnacle of my geekiness.
• When I get home, I check my blogroll, eat a snack, shower (unless I’m going out or expecting guests), nap, then wake up to cook and eat dinner
• Monday and Wednesday nights are reserved for phonecalls with John, Tuesday and Thursday nights are for Tai Chi class

Weekends

• I wake up (too) early, cook breakfast (usually bacon, eggs, and toast) while writing or cleaning, eat, play a game of some sort (currently GTA: San Andreas or FFXII) then fall asleep again
• I only check my snail-mail and pay bills on Sundays

I rarely deviate from these daily rituals, perhaps a simpler form of OCD.

The first thing I notice about a girl is her face, but the eyes are what hold my attention.

Big, round, and pure. They’re the ultimate sign of femininity, because they convey innocence, youth, vitality.

Sometimes, the most intimate and personal thing you can do — from having a conversation to making love — is make eye-contact.