Sitting on my bed, I can feel your every breath, dancing across my face and seeping into my pores. Just a single touch, and I know that I'll melt and be left as a single pile of flesh, blood and water, quickly absorbed by my bedspread. I think of the argument that we had today. Yes, it was pointless and trivial, as we sat eye to eye with nail spiked tongues, but satin lips. Your icy words should extinguish the candle inside, but they only seem to ignite it. You kissed my heart with the burning rays emitting from your electric blue eyes, and then ripped it out to retrieve it in your teeth. Oh, I love you. Just a single thought that creeps into my head that involves you drives me insanely and wildly crazy. Hard kisses, spicy touches and chocolatety words seem to strangle me when I wake up mid-morning with the sweetest dream of you still lingering and chilling my skin. I love the grapes you planted in my risotto that had been smoothed by your hands and the guitar chords that haunt me before I sleep as they echo around the house. Your lousy voice like nails down a blackboard that touch me because they're genuine and honest and true and every single word you speak to me, that I can analyse for days, but that still have no meaning. Sitting here on the bed where you've stroked my hair and sung me to sleep, I realise that I do love you. I think I'll sit here a bit longer.