You make it better.
You, with your cute dimple and adoring eyes.
Your funny words and warm smile.
You make it easier.
When you spend the day writing words I want to read and saying things I want to hear.
When I know that you are there and I’m here and there is a web of emotions and looks and thoughts that join you to me.
When I remember how you feel when aroused and moist.
Your eyes glazed with want search mine and I mirror the look that your’s reflect.
You make the mornings easier and the nights warmer.
You make the journeys shorter and the fumes bearable.
You make it worthwhile.
My thumb feels sore from the endless hours of silly anecdotes I can’t remember if only to keep you close.
I could listen to you breath and that too would be fine.
You make me dreamy.
You make me think of white dresses and bells.
Of flowers and happily ending tales.
You make me laugh that I forget how grim it can be.
You make me lose myself enough to think that I’m tall enough to reach the stars.
You make me believe I could pluck them and present you with their brilliance even when it competes with yours and sadly loses.
With your hand in mine, the trench that carries the murky rain water looks like a clear spring stream.
The ugliness it embodies is lost to me and in it’s place, I see colour and light and butterflies.
Peeling paint has never looked more beautiful,
Or the trail of water down a wall, more fetching.
Chipped wooden table tops take on magnificence.
When you look at me…