Honey is the way your words drip into my soul, like water cascading from the heavens after a dark cloudy night.
It is your absolute coexistence with every bit of the world around you.
The way your hands crescendo against my body like the exhales of the sea, the white light glows and courses through your veins like electricity.
Yet you're never in a rush to live.
Instead, you beckon me back to bed, my skin sticks to yours in the heat caused by our bodies under rustled sheets, and I think I found home in the spaces between your fingers.
You hold my name between your lips like a lit cigarette between your teeth.
Nothing will ever feel as sweet as this.