Meet Me In The Bedroom I

handmade, wheel thrown with gold details. not microwave or dishwasher safe. 
from my hands to yours xx 

That was the season I lived in tandem with the sun, slipping into bed at the same time I used to put on party dresses, waking hours before the world began buzzing. That was when I fell in love with morning. And I don’t say that carelessly. What I mean to tell you is that it really did feel like falling in love. It was romantic, but not in a dozen roses in a crystal vase, candlelight dancing on her cheeks, Miles Davis turned down low kind of way. It was more like an overflowing wildflower bouquet, my sister’s single dimple, a ‘Liked Songs’ playlist on shuffle. What I mean to say is, morning’s charm is subtle—noticed only by those who really pay attention—and waking up to  her that summer felt like being let in on an enchanting secret.