White Lace

Some mornings just refuse to cooperate, and Hayley Marie Coppin has made absolutely no apology for the fact that midday has arrived and she is still exactly where she wants to be. She drifts around the antique bedroom in her brand new white lace lingerie, the delicate camisole top skimming her curves and the lace thong leaving most of her long legs bare against the warm honey light that pours through the window. The old dark wood dresser and its tall ornate mirror make the most perfect stage. She drapes herself across the furniture with the unhurried ease of a woman with nowhere to be, the pale sage walls and the soft morning glow giving everything a dreamy, suspended quality, as if time has simply agreed to stop for a while.

She discovers the mirror and becomes quietly fascinated by what she finds there. She leans in close, studying her own reflection with sleepy, heavy-lidded eyes, and then does the most natural thing in the world: she leans forward and presses her lips to the glass. The lace camisole rides up as she arches her back over the dresser, her hair falling in a golden curtain around her face, the white lace thong a perfect contrast to all that warm golden skin. She turns, poses, smiles slowly at her own reflection, and it is impossible to decide which version of her is more beautiful. This is her lazy day. It looks a great deal like perfection.

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