I half sing, half hum a slow melody
to myself as I strip down my face,
leaving only freckles and pores to match
plain child eyes.

Strong, warm arms encircle my waist
as I dry my face. You nestle your cheek
against my neck and shoulder, making goosebumps
where your scruff catches my skin.

Surprised, I listen hard to hear you mumble
“I love you” and sigh as your nose runs along
my collarbone, telling my skin that I smell
so good.

My mind turns fuzzy because it’s hard to fathom
this moment that’s a recreation of some sappy
young adult romance novel. But right now
I know you adore me, made up doll eyes
and airbrushed skin or not.