I think of you,
do you know that?
It’s like looking in the window
of a home you wish to reside in.
Seeing all that could be,
all that might be . . .

Even in the little time we have expressed words,
things in their little way have changed.
The morning a little brighter,
the world around me a bit greener . . .

It’s that strange knowledge,
knowing that someone thinks of me as well.
I went to sleep last night with your words
still painted upon the canvas of my mind.
A sudden rightness came over me.
Glimpses of almond skin and hazel eyes
where I could almost touch the skin,
see those eyes smiling back at me.

Nights spent in your arms
is something I dream of.
Hearing your skin and feeling it move
across my own.
I close my eyes and can almost feel
your muscles slid beneath your skin
as you move over me . . .