Glitter

“I swear I just saw it!” I exclaim. “Okay, look to your left and slowly turn your face to the right.”

He sighs, but does as he’s told. There’s a birthmark on his ear, right where an earring would be if his ears were pierced. I play with that lobe more than the other when we’re lounging in bed. His cheeks are speckled with stubble, but through it I see his skin: the color of my café con leche when I don’t put enough milk. His eyebrow is annoyingly tame and unbushy. People born with perfect eyebrows don’t know how good they’ve got it. He’s closed his eyes, but his eyelashes still look long and beautiful. The bridge of his nose is wide, and would make the perfect mount for glasses should his 20/20 vision change. His lips look full and soft, and for a second I forget what I’m doing, and lean in to kiss them.

He kisses me back, so lovingly, so tenderly, but then breaks away with a another sigh.

“Babe.” He grabs my shoulders and looks into my eyes. “Did you find the glitter?”

I give him an apologetic smile and sink into a shrug. “I’m sorry, I got distracted!”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Wait, I just saw it again!”

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