It's lucky I'm a poet;
if I wasn't a crafter of words,
it would be nearly
impossible
to find the words to describe
The swelling of my heart
whenever I think of you
(It's like my chest is about to burst)
The tingle in my stomach
when I know you're near
(It's so odd I really can't describe it,
except to say that it's impatient)
The surge of love and happiness,
warmth and comfort,
that fills me completely
when I melt into your arms
(Oh, it's so perfectly warm)
Oh, how do I describe my love?
It's another world,
attached to my older, darker one,
and only good things are allowed
to enter the sphere.
It's a swelling, like a tidal wave
crashing over me, but
I am not afraid.
It's home.
It's...home.
It's safe and it's warm, and...
It's home, being in your arms.
There is no place I'd rather be.