His love is like a drug shot into empty veins,
His eyes intoxicate and paralyze,
Our hushed voices whispering confession of love,
We are as children giggling into the night,
Each other’s shirts grasped gently in loving hands.

He fueled my fire of love left unattended,
He gives new meaning to the word “home”,
His arms an embrace of purity and warmth,
My fingers comb through his hair when panic attacks strike,
We take care of each other like family as we will be.

I never felt this rhythm to my heart,
My pulse beats with promise of a future with this man,
Our fates intertwined as our hands on a calm summer night.
He is mine.
I am his.