I have been trying to write this poem
for as long as I've known you.
Every word feels too small.
Every line feels like a lie.
But here is the truth:
When I say I want you,
I mean I want the weight of you
pressing me into the mattress.
I mean I want the sound you make
when I find the exact right place.
I mean I want to be so deep inside you
that we breathe together.
But I also mean
I want to make you coffee
exactly how you like it.
I want to know why you flinch
at certain words.
I want to be the person you call
when the world is too much
and you need somewhere soft to land.
When I say I want you,
I mean everything.
I mean forever.
I mean right now
and always
and every moment in between.
Your skin against mine
is the only answer
I've ever needed.
The question was always
am I alone in this?
And your body, pressed close,
whispers no.
No.
Never again.
I trace the lines of you
like I'm reading
the only book
that matters.
I know how you taste
in the morning
and at midnight
and after we've made love
and you're still trembling
and I'm still inside you
and time has stopped
caring about anything
except this.
You asked me once
what I love most about you.
I couldn't answer.
Not because I didn't know.
Because I knew too much.
I love the way you say my name
when you're falling apart.
I love the way you look at me
across a crowded room
like I'm the only one there.
I love the way you trust me
with your body,
your heart,
your quietest self.
I love the mole on your hip
that I kiss every time
because it's mine now.
I love the scar on your hand
that I've traced so many times
I could draw it blind.
I love the sound of your breathing
when you're asleep
and I'm still awake
and the whole world
has narrowed
to the rise and fall
of your chest.
I want to be the reason
you believe in love.
I want to be the proof
that it's real.
That it lasts.
That it can hold you
and heal you
and make you more
than you were before.
I want to spend my life
showing you
what you showed me:
that bodies are not just bodies.
That touch is not just touch.
That when two people fit
the way we fit
the universe
takes notice.
There is a version of me
that never met you.
He is still searching.
Still hungry.
Still alone.
I think about him sometimes.
I think about how close I came
to never knowing
what this feels like.
Then you shift beside me
and murmur something
in your sleep
and reach for me
without waking
and I remember
that I don't have to imagine anymore.
I have you.
I have this.
I have everything.
Come here.
Let me remind you
why your body
is my favourite place.
Let me show you
what forever
feels like.
Let me love you
until the only word
you remember
is mine.
