Doonesbury by Garry Trudeau for March 08, 1987
Rick: I don't hear that, did you? Joanie: Hear what? Rick: It's another Sunday morning... Joanie: Uh-huh... Rick: A quiet hour...a gentle time...still bescotted with sleep, I force my eyes open...I drink in a damn streaked with gold...the soft rise and fall of her breathing creates a stirring within...a quickening ardor! Joanie: Uh-oh. Rick: Inflamed, I turn towards her...I reach out...and then.... Joanie: And then? Rick: And then I remember. Jeff: Hi, daddy. Joanie: I think I like the streaks of gold part best.