When I look at you, I don't see beautiful legs, or a gorgeous face, I don't see perfect *******, or eyes worth drowning in.
When I look at you, I see through the material captivating as it is, and into a mystery beckoning to the immaterial.
When I speak with you, the rest of the world doesn't stop spinning, but it slows down, and the doubts and history, fall away into the nothing from whence they came.
When you touched me, there was no ecstasy, nor a beautiful pain; just a simple warmth which I never thought I'd be able to feel again.