She rises to meet the day. (Breathe). The wrinkles of the sheets still kiss the surface of her skin, fading with each bend and bow of her body as she raises her arms to the sky. Morning light fills the room. (Stretch). Threads of gold shine in her tousled hair and map the edges of her naked, heavenly curves; she glows brighter than the sun. From Jay Cinista. Take it Easy Like Sunday Morning xxx