Slightly Sour

I love you and everything you do. I don't expect anything from you, be all you are and I'll be satisfied. Lick your finger, touch my lips, close your eyes and lock your hand with mine. We'll stay up all night; watch the moon wane when the sun flusters the sky. Our discourse is laughter, our memories are liquid honey. Don't hesitate. But go ahead and stumble, I'll catch you before you hit the floor. Your arms, my arms, entangled forever. Your lips, mine, ensnared evermore. I'm invigorated by your passion. You're energized by my smile.

I love everything about you. Take the sheets outside; we'll sleep in the dew. Roll in the grass with me. At four we'll slip out the window and sprawl on the sun-sparkled shingles. The bright will shimmy across the texture. It'll slip across your face. We'll be in a pastel painting inside a hardbound novel marked by a soft blue bookmark. Our older audience disapproves. Our younger audience feels envy or denial thereof. Our peer group feels an adoring affinity.

Your whisper reverberates in my ear. I'm lulled to sleep. My neck is stiff when I awaken but I daren't stir. Your breath is slightly sour but I don't care.

I love you and everything you do.