it's the smell of old spice aftershave on my face in the morning
because you kissed me before you left for work
the feel of soft, worn-in flannel sheets under my bare skin
because i woke up in your bed today instead of my empty one
the gentle scratch of five o' clock shadow on my cheek when you hold me close to you
the green in your eyes when you smile at me
the lingering way you run your fingers down my bared back
raising goosebumps down my spine
and then the dopamine kicks in
and i think i'm addicted
to everything about the way that you're not like anyone else
and you look at me like i'm not, either