You’re snoring lightly, your jaw unhinged slightly, the little dipper of freckles on your shoulder peeking out from behind your sheets.  The constellation I used to connect the dots to before you woke up.  You’d throw the pen at my face, trying to keep your frown firm, but you’d crack and jump on my back as I ran from you down the hall.  Merlin licking his paws, scrutinizing us from the doorway.  As your legs wrapped themselves comfortably around my waist, twisting to my front I’d kiss your neck and you’d make that sound like warm whiskey.
I wish I could be with you when you wake up tomorrow.  But your mother says its bad luck.
Just promise me you’ll still walk down the aisle if you wake up with my handy work on your shoulder.
                                                       ­                                                               I love you,
                                                            ­                                                                  David