For once I feel like writing.
Your tired arms engulf
me and I can’t help but feel overwhelmed
with emotion. Lips touch ever so slightly,
but it feels more like coming home than a first kiss.
You tell me about your day and I,
in turn, thumb-wrestle you while listening
intently. This is not the first time we’ve
been silly together and I hope it’s not the
last.
Running fingers through your hair
I feel nothing but calm, as if this is the
way it always was and this is how it should be.
Like there’s never been any other.
You say something remarkable, yet cheesy.
Sincere, not forced.
I smile and bury my head in your chest,
lapping up your warmth.
I was once told that this what
young love feels like—familiar, safe, warm, exciting.
If that’s the case then, baby,
this is where I’m meant to be.
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