i was never fond of grand gestures
until i had you looking at me from under your eyelashes
and for something that seems so insignificant, it left me aching for something i never even knew i craved.
but i do
i crave it like i crave your hands on my spine and my hands on your lips.
i crave it like i crave foggy mornings with my hand in yours and coffee in the kitchen and the promise of you
still
being there.
i was always warned of pretty boys with knobby knees and spidery fingers
but i was never one to flinch away from marble smiles
the coolness refreshing on my overheated cheeks that can only come from the rush of affection that the constellations inside of you impressed upon me.
your elbows sprouting daisies and i would want nothing more than to weave them into my hair but you arent a garden and the soul living inside of you is too big for your body and instead of withering it spindles out and it wraps around me and i am so
thankful.