I took for granted the smoke in your voice. The deep tone that trembled and tapped at my eardrums. I would curl my toes when you spoke. My breathing stopped for a moment, then started again… just to take you in.  Your breath and my lungs intertwined in a wind of ecstasy.
I didn’t want to realize I had fallen. Afraid my heart was now buried too deep within the confines of your skin. I didn’t want to admit you had stolen, every diamond I’d hidden within.
I took for granted my ability to handle your hands. They gripped me like a steady drumbeat vibrating and holding me down. Hands that were smooth as stone and pressing me to a final blow.
You were a mist that crept in slowly when I was distracted by your lips on my neck. The builder of my new reality. A place where I live, kept, in the shores of your waters.
Love speaks in many languages. Wrapping around words and crawling inside unexpected places. It floats in rivers of imperfection and lingers with your whispered moans.
Love speaks to me. It speaks of you in me. Words I had once faltered with, but now inhale without choice…
and embrace without question.

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