I'm 90 percent sure I'm lost in your gaze.
The way your eyes crinkle and shine each time you laugh at my tasteless jokes reflect a good life, and I cannot stop myself from falling into the bittersweet aroma of love.
You taste like recycled coffee and poorly stifled laughs,
And I feel myself wanting more and more of you every moment we're in bed together, sheets cinched haphazardly around our legs to hold us captive for just a kiss more.
There is just something about you I can't explain.
The moment you waltzed into the grocer's with those long, uncoordinated limbs, I knew something was different. Maybe it was your smile. Maybe it was the way you shined.
You're a muse, a motivation.
Each kiss sends me soaring into a dream of inspiration, and as we finish our private love, the high leaves me gasping at the edge of each sentence as I try to comprehend the emotions you cause.
I'm 90 percent sure I'm lost in your gaze,
but I can't tell if it's just me trying to see if you believe this could be real.