I see

I notice everything about him. The fleck in his left eye, the shape of his nose, the freckles on his back, his beautiful arms, his mouth, his ears, his hands, his shoulders, his stomach, his neck, his legs, and hips, I can hardly take my eyes off him. I can recreate him if I close my eye, a deep breath will put me in his arms, a sigh will bring me his smell. I also watch the way he moves, and the way he thinks. I can move to meet him and guess his words before he says them. I thank the heavens he doesn't know how crazy he makes me, because people shouldn't know how perfect they are. There would be nothing left to strive for.