The way you breathe tonight, Lying peacefully beside me; The way you hold me, In the crook of your arm So protectively, As if I am a glass figurine Of priceless worth, Which could easily shatter If not handled just so. The way we sleep, In some sort of nocturnal ballet, Our bodies in fluid motion, Always touching, Always holding, Ever reluctant To let go. The way your eyes plead, When you tell me That I am The only one for you, They speak as though They are begging Me to understand That my love is Vital To your soul. The way you brush my hair, And then move it aside, In one smooth column, To kiss the back of my neck And whisper your sweetness against it. The way you breathe kisses into me And murmur My own words of poetry Back to me As though they were The most cherished gift A soul could want, Accompanying them With the gentlest of caresses. If I could I would put all of these moments Into a big box And draw them out For the times You aren't here And press them against the side of my face And next to my heart While I breathe a soft sigh And gently cry.
