"I love you,"
I say, speaking those inadequate words out loud
only to watch them fall to the ground, useless at expressing how I truly feel about you.
You say you love me back, but I want to say
"No, you don't fully comprehend my meaning."
It's not just love.

It's wriggling up against you to close nonexistent space, forever trying to get closer, wanting to prolong moments into eternity, because being enveloped within your arms makes me feel safer than I ever thought possible.

It's reading a book about losing one's forever love in a car accident and consequently nagging you to start wearing your seatbelt and stop using your phone so much. I hate feeling like the nagging girlfriend, but god, I don't know how I'd go on without you, and no horror novel has ever scared me so much as that book did.

"I love you,"
I say, feeling the letters crumble under the weight I place upon them.

I went all day without caffeine.
Nothing, not a sip.
Neither coffee nor soda.
At almost five in the afternoon
I caved.
Wrapping my hands around the cup,
feeling the warmth deep through,
I inhaled deeply,
took the aroma in,
felt it infuse itself into my being,
and I swear
in that first sip,
I found religion again.

I don't know much of anything about life or love or the grand "meaning of it all," but this I know: I hate the constraints society places upon us, ropes gathered up to knot relationships, tie them up and place them all in nice neat little packages with a cute presentable bow on top. We're supposedly in the "honeymoon phase" right now and we joke about how we'll know when it's done, when the real stuff has begun. But sir, the way I've spread my scars open, reopened all those old wounds for you to discover, evaluate, and assess, I refuse to believe none of this is the "real" stuff. Sure, maybe one day we'll have an actual, honest-to-goodness argument where our mouths become cannons for the shots we volley back and forth. But I can't believe, stubbornly refuse to even consider there will be a day I'll look into those emerald eyes of yours and not fall utterly in love all over again. I can't imagine a morning of waking up and not being grateful to have you next to me. Maybe love isn't constant perfection, and there's no way that every single day will be a dreamland fantasy, but maybe, just maybe when you've found a forever kind of love there isn't a "honeymoon period" at all. Maybe it just is, and that's enough.

Pure anticipation
   at the moment I
      can rush into your
         open, waiting arms
            and brush my lips
               against the smooth
                  softness of yours
                     is what propels me
                        through the dizzying
                           dullness of each day.

Sometimes the words you say
make me look down and blush,
delve into my own headspace,
wondering what brings such
wondrous sounds pouring forth
from your lips.
And these things you say,
they aren't obscene in any way,
but oh sir, do they twist me up inside
and steal my breaths straight
out of my lungs.

Most of the time you say
silly, fun, loveable things
in a sing-song voice
meant to convey whimsy.
But sometimes,
when we're just lying there
under the covers
or riding along in your car,
you get more serious.
You'll speak words that carry
heavier meanings,
and your voice deepens
so that I know I'm hearing
things meant only for me.
In those moments,
****, I can't break my gaze
away from your eyes.
You capture my full attention
with that special tone,
your own secret
communication straight
through to my heart.

'
                      I asked
you
                       to make love to me last night,
                      desperate for meaning
                      and searching for more
                      than just another ****.
                      You turned me down
                      and my mood instantly
crumpled
                      though I tried not
                      to let you see.
                      I swallowed the pain,
                      buried it down deep
                      until I could turn my back to you.
                      And though we fell asleep
                      as we always do,
                      you with your arms wrapped around
me,
                      with my face turned away
                      you couldn't see
                      the line of tears dancing their way
                      down my cheeks,
utterly
                      destroyed by being turned away by you.