I want to wake up
to the richness of your voice.
A voice that looks like floral petals,
smells like fresh rain,
and sounds like the warmth of a
crackling fire.
Your words are light
yet fill the room
so that it swells like your chest
when you breathe.
And once our eyes
lose their fatigue,
we'd open up our rib cages.
and pass secrets like warm bread
while giggling under the blanket
where no one can see us.
We wouldn't need to go
and look at the night sky
because the Christmas lights
would be the stars
and you would be my moon,
shining in the darkness.
I never want to leave your arms.