Loving her was like a good meal.
An unexpected moment in the universe when everything goes right.
Whether the chef changes the recipe.
Or I just so happened to catch the place on a slow day.
An otherwise busy, fast paced world.
Everything from the complimentary water, to the appetizer.
The main course.
This was how good to be in love with her felt.
There was no such thing as placing another order.
Substituting one item for another.
Without need for a menu.
I wanted all that she had to offer.
This was a meal that couldn't be recreated.
Everything presented perfect on the plate.
The seasonal greens and meat overlapping what's thought to be imperfect.
We often take for granted the simple things.
Occasional efforts that what we need most can easily be found at request.
This isn't always the case.
We authentically lose anticipation doing so.
Creating different realities of ourselves. 
Rather than learning to accept. 
Soaked in juices, the aroma seeping through the air.
She sizzled, cracked, and popped.
This experience that approached.
This was eating at it's finest.
Preparing knife and fork.
Loving her without wasting a single crumb, morsel, or drop.
This was me biting into something that I've never before experienced.
Giving each other what we've both desired.
The fulfillment of one another.
Exploring portion after portion of this delicious rendezvous

And when I look at you.
I see a thought.
The supreme conviction that in spite of ourselves.
We are the light that gives unselfishly to ourselves.
The pieces we constantly give to each other,
Not too much can equate that.
The attraction that starts first as thought.
Given wings.

The angels increase in thought.
A joy that lights upon our face.
Rather than keep quiet.
They have a strange yet fearless way of knowing just when to show up.
This light that spreads ultimate warmth.
Affection.
It becomes intimate.
Sharing this tender notion of fear.
The hopes and dreams kept afloat by each of our smiles.
To touch you in the most intimate of ways.
Even when I am not around