Her caress along my spine gives me chills as she hangs on my every word.
She holds me as if she doesn’t ever want to let go.
She is my world, my everything.
Her touch is my ignition, my imagination, my life.
Without her I am just an image, a lost idea.
It’s nearly bedtime.
She closes her eyes and yawns without fear of her late night dinner breath.
I feel the wind from her breaths, they are marvelous.
She turns over and tucks me close against her body.
Though asleep, I feel her every breath.
It’s as if she knows I love the feel of her heart against my spine.
Some call it spooning, but I call it love.
I am a book, and nothing more.
Yet I love her through my core.