Looks Like Rain

The rain danced across the window as the tap-tap-tapping sounds became more distinct with each drop. The light of the moon crept onto the bed and shone across her sleeping face. She resembled a perfect marble statue, carved to represent some goddess worshiped for her beauty.
I smiled as I stroked her raven hair, shining in the pale moonlight.
My hand wanders from her hair to her slender neck to the curve of her back. I feel the texture of her skin, smoother than silk and just as fragile.
She smells of vanilla.
Her eyes open, squinting to adjust to the light, or lack of. She looks at me and whispers in the voice of an angel:
"Hi."
"Hi," I smile.
We are both as happy as if we had invented love-making and could do it better than any other couple in the world ever did.
Then I wake up. I slowly get dressed and prepare myself for the day ahead. I take a quick glance out the window as I put on my shirt. I smile.
Looks like rain tonight.