I want to hold you in my arms and make you understand the joy I feel from your touch. The pangs in my chest upon first seeing your face in the morning light, the flutter of my heart when you kiss me from my slumber and the incredible lightness that comes with being likened to an angel by a lover of your own.
I wish I could explain how pet names in random messages can be all the reassurance I need and how I need to be perfect for you. How having someone call me babe, makes me feel like one, like a small child swaddled in warmth and affection. But I am no child around you.
I am young and I am beautiful and I am plentiful and worthy of your affections and effects. The effects of your fingers grasping, hard pressed, on my hips while your lips play and part upon the soft surface of my imperfect waist. Finally I feel as if I’m enough. As if I’m more than. More than such a man had ever hoped for. As if I’ve made a dream come true.
But darling you are my dream, when I close my eyes I still see black but my mind sees the midnight on your skin, dark but inviting and full of endless wonder. I wish I could clutch the sky, pull the likeness of you from my mind and hold the stars of you in my arms, by my heart, and make you understand.