Love is...

Love is your warmth, the leftover food in the refrigerator, the songs we sing, the security of your arms, the whipped frosting on a cupcake, the smell of the wind on a chilly fall evening, the slight curl of your hair, layers of blankets, the scars on your face, the games you play, your hands and all you do with them, the kisses you give, the way you talk, 5 am morning breath, your violent twitches as you fall asleep, the electric feeling of your touch, multiple alarms and multiple pillows, back scratching, finishing a grueling homework assignment, sweets and treats, nicknames, encouragement,  late night dinners and Netflix and movies, cats and cuddles, disheveled hair and smeared mascara, silence, growth, and beauty.

Love is simply you, I, and a careless mixture of everything else.

Sleep.

The day is so big, I can feel it stretching out before me.  The last thing you want to do after waking up from a good sleep, is to go and put yourself through work and chores and social interaction.  I know I have to move on from here, but wouldn't it be nice, to just stay in bed, and steal a little more of that perfect sleep?

Open.

I want to crack you open.
I want to unveil you.
I want to see every crevice and scar that is within you.
I want to study every inch of your inner being.
I want to see the beauty that is underneath your exterior.

Lay my hands on the ripples of your heart and have it feel whole again.
Trace my fingers down the history of your years and have you believe in good things again.
Beautiful people do not just happen.
So I’m going to study the beauty of you with all that’s in me.
And after all the pages, I’d do the uncommon;
I’m going to put the bookmark of my heart next to where your heart lies and keep the book forever.