Why I love my glasses

I sit here, on my lovely fur-covered couch, sulking in the rays that project through the dusty horizontal blinds. My shadow on the carpet beneath me plays tricks with my mind. My feet seem to be moving a lot slower nowadays, my limbs much heavier and weighed-down.  Songs in the acoustic bounce from ear to ear, and on repeat. Romantic lyrics play back-to-back, my heart thumps carefree to the beat of the music. My hair sits lightly on my shoulders, the amber color shining through the sun coming in. The polish on my fingers dries, slow as molasses, and I'm careful to not smudge. I can smell, faintly, the wood cabinets just feet away from me.  They've been stained and treated and polished, but their natural beauty remains ever so slightly.  In walk my lovers, and on goes my day. How lucky I am to have those five minutes to absorb myself in the morning.