It’s morning…
I haven’t opened my eyes yet but I feel the ghosts of his fingerprints over my back
I’m tangled in nothing but sheets with the sunrise dominating our room
I feel the hints of a tiny smile begin to form on my lips but my eyes remain closed
He’s following his own pattern as he uses my body as his canvas
I feel the loops and the curves of the letters and pictures he’s creating on my skin
He’s so focused on what he’s doing that he still doesn’t notice the smile on my face
I love these moments…
These rare moments in time where nothing exists but us
And just when I’m about to let him know that I’m awake, he begins to speak
He tells me he loves me
He explains to me how he can’t live without me
He goes so far into his feelings that I’m left speechless
To anyone on the outside looking in, they would probably call him crazy
But I’ll call it what it is….
Heartfelt sentiments that just found its voice
I’ll call it loving a man who is not perfect
A man who is just a man
And when I finally open my eyes and turn to face him, I know that all vulnerability will be vacant
I won’t push him to tell me
I won’t even let him know I was awake
I’ll just smile and kiss him as we profess our love the best way we know how
Because the next time he says the wrong thing or forgets an anniversary, I will remember this morning
And I will know in my heart that this man loves me
And as unforgiving as he knows how
Because this morning he showed me his soul
He laid down his heart and gave it to me on a silver platter
And any imperfections, mistakes, or forgetfulness on his part doesn’t even begin to take the place of that
I am loved….deeply and passionately
….And I know it


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