You have three tattoos. Full lips and good strong hands.
You have spots on your nose that I could never fully count.
You have a scar on your right arm, from that hot iron that one time.
The first time you pulled off your shirt, I traced the line with my fingers and fell in love.
You are so much more, from living from that moment to this one.
You always seem to apologise for the little mistakes we make.  
Your body is a map I know every inch of and if anyone else were to kiss me, all they would taste is your name.

l.m