Love smells like his denim jacket, all warm and tinged with his cologne and his musk. Love smells like toasted pancakes on a drowsy Sunday. Love smells like burned wood in the fireplace on a cold winter day.
Love tastes like licking the ice cream dripping down your fingers. Love tastes like the spurt of gooey chocolate on the first bite, all sweet, dark and delicious. Love tastes like hot coffee on a monday morning, bright and awakening, getting you ready for the first day.
Love feels like his hand squeezing yours when you’re unaware. Love feels like his mouth fitting perfectly in yours. Love feels like the surprise of seeing him waiting up for you when you come home late.
Love sounds like his slow beating pulse when your head is on his chest at three a.m. Love sounds like him murmuring ‘i love yous’ when he thinks you’re asleep. Love sounds like the buzz of the T.V on low when you both accidentally fell asleep talking.
Love looks when the morning light is flooding into your room and the first thing you see is the light bathing his face in this godly mustard glow. Love looks like skin. Skin up close. Where you can see every freckle, pore, every imperfection and every flaw. And ****, does it takes your breath away.
an old but gold poem of mine.