o for the certainty that my thirst for your body does your eyes justice. when your loveliness rests on my fingertips to see is to taste you, to drink from eyes that bubble and laugh with every ounce of your being.
i wake in my love's gray sweatshirt with winter streaming in through the window. her scent as i pull the warmth of its hood down over my face floods me with all possible delight, but it's falling back asleep that was never such a delicious stretch.