I want to remember.
After nursing, a drop of milk still resting in the corner of your mouth, you lie beside me on the bed. My body instinctively curls around your tiny frame. Your feet, crossed at the ankles as is your habit, rest on my thigh. Your wide eyes watch the sunlight streaming through the window above us, and your hand idly rubs against my skin. Every once in a while you stretch luxuriously, but always your little body comes back to rest against mine. Together we wake up slowly.