He leans in close
His lips barely touching her cupid’s bow
His breath is warm and inviting
The almost taste of him is ever so enticing
Her entire body trembles with anticipation
A moment so deeply longed for
Deeper than the depths of the ocean
His grip is soft yet firm as she presses herself up against him
Her heart almost beats outside of her chest, in sync, like she’s a part of him
She dare not look into his eyes
For she knows
She’ll drown in them
All she knows for certain is she can not exist fully without him
she is artwork and glory
she smells like cherries, spilt ink and thunderstorms