Does perfection exist?
Cause I think our love
Must count as perfect
At least to me
How our souls
Melt into each other 
Maybe in the form of our passion
Mixed with pleasure
Like the way I feel
With him inside me
So full, 
of love, and of him.
His eyes 
stare into mine
Silently telling my soul
That he sees perfection
When he looks at me
And his lips 
are like soft clouds 
from the heavens
That graze mine
So gently, and then rough,
And then gently again,
Cause only he 
knows what I like,
And I can feel his love, 
overflowing
And the smell of his skin
Intoxicates my soul
So I pull him closer
And he touches me, 
So perfectly 
and he knows
Exactly when and where
To brush his fingers
Ever so lightly
So that I melt into his hands
And he knows 
When and where
To touch me harder
And faster
In ways that only he knows how
Cause I've given myself to him
So thoroughly, so wholly 
So vulnerable
Only for him 
Cause I like it
When he bites my shoulder 
And when he chokes me 
While he whispers
That I'm his
And that he loves me
And that I'm perfect
And to take it
And he knows 
That with those whispers 
My body will tense up
All too quickly 
With too much pleasure
Until I let go,
Over and over, 
And my legs are weak,
And he smiles at my moans,
And kisses my forehead,
And continues 
To make my world spin,
And it feels too good, 
So I lose myself
In the waves of pleasure
Crashing over me 
Over us
Until we collapse, 
Together,
Too sweaty and out of breath,
Feeling closer to him
Than I could feel
To anyone ever
Cause it was perfect
Like it always is 
Cause our love 
Takes ordinary pleasure
And turns it to perfection 
So yes, it must exist.