Morning Glory

There is a particular kind of beauty that only exists in the slow, golden wash of early morning light, and Hayley Marie Coppin has found it. She stands beneath a wooden pergola latticed with diamond-shaped trelliswork, dappled light playing across her skin through the gaps in the timber as she gazes into the camera with sleepy, heavy-lidded eyes. The sheer black slip she is wearing is barely a suggestion of clothing, the delicate fabric completely transparent, tracing the contours of her body in a ghost of dark silk as the morning breeze moves through it. Her long blonde hair is loose, wild, and totally perfect.

She trails her fingertips along the wooden rail of the outdoor daybed and then sinks back onto it, lifting the sheer black chemise slowly over her head and letting it float away, the morning air warm against her bare skin. Hayley stretches out across the sun-warmed wood, arms above her head, completely at peace, the latticed shadows making a beautiful pattern across her body. This is what morning glory looks like, and it is impossible to imagine a more glorious start to the day.

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