It doesn't feel real,
That you love me.
That I'm yours.
That you're mine.
That we've got rings on our fingers.

I look at you,
And it's like a dream.
Not like my usual ones.
It's like pixie dust and fairy glitter.
It's like the morning dew and budding wild flowers.
It's like the taste of honeysuckle and too-strong green tea.

I feel your hand on my hand
Or your hand on my thigh
Or your hands on my hips,
Or your hand running through my hair,
As innocently as possible,
And I feel like I belong.
I belong right there,
Beside you.

And that's why it scares me.