Does perfection exist?
Cause I think our love
Must count as perfect
At least to me
How our souls
Melt into each other
Maybe in the form of our passion
Mixed with pleasure
Like the way I feel
With him inside me
So full,
of love, and of him.
His eyes
stare into mine
Silently telling my soul
That he sees perfection
When he looks at me
And his lips
are like soft clouds
from the heavens
That graze mine
So gently, and then rough,
And then gently again,
Cause only he
knows what I like,
And I can feel his love,
overflowing
And the smell of his skin
Intoxicates my soul
So I pull him closer
And he touches me,
So perfectly
and he knows
Exactly when and where
To brush his fingers
Ever so lightly
So that I melt into his hands
And he knows
When and where
To touch me harder
And faster
In ways that only he knows how
Cause I've given myself to him
So thoroughly, so wholly
So vulnerable
Only for him
Cause I like it
When he bites my shoulder
And when he chokes me
While he whispers
That I'm his
And that he loves me
And that I'm perfect
And to take it
And he knows
That with those whispers
My body will tense up
All too quickly
With too much pleasure
Until I let go,
Over and over,
And my legs are weak,
And he smiles at my moans,
And kisses my forehead,
And continues
To make my world spin,
And it feels too good,
So I lose myself
In the waves of pleasure
Crashing over me
Over us
Until we collapse,
Together,
Too sweaty and out of breath,
Feeling closer to him
Than I could feel
To anyone ever
Cause it was perfect
Like it always is
Cause our love
Takes ordinary pleasure
And turns it to perfection
So yes, it must exist.