Mér allt

The feel of your presence 

Slides along my skin,

Like a well-loved quilt

Enveloping me in comfort.

The smoke-blue of your eyes

Hold every dream I have ever wished for, 

And some I've yet to even fathom. 

Your laughter leaving me willing

To empty a library of books,

So that I might hear it's beloved sound

Echoing around me.

Your smile enough to make me

Forever rest my pen, 

So that I might have more time

To be beguiled by it.

Your kiss like the cusp

Of a thunderstorm,

An intoxicating mix of

Ferocity and serenity,

Which, unfailingly, 

Ensnares me.

Your words like a novel 

I am unable to put down,

Each page drawing me 

Ever deeper than the last.

The strength of your body

Like a Celt warrior of old,

I would gladly bow to my fate,

If chosen to be yours.

The interlacing of our bodies,

A symphony.

Limbs bowing and resting

To the sounds of alto and bass,

Until peaking upon a magnificent crescendo.

Arms banding around me,

Holding me close.

A moment's sudden realization...

You are my home.