It's Just Love

“Mmmmm.” He softly takes her locks

Breathing his very air right through them,

“I love your hair.”

“It’s only hair,” she says as if he is unaware,

“It falls out, it grows; it eventually grays.”

“Mmmmm.” He tells her anyway.

His hands roll up her island curves,

“Your skin, creamy whipped, like butter verve,”

He softly moans.

“It’s only skin,” she chides again,

“It sags, it blemishes, wrinkles up.”

He puts one finger to her lip,

“Shhhhhhh…”

He shakes his head

And rolls his eyes,

Knowing her soul,

Knowing her size

And the depth

Of her universal start,

“I love your heart,”

He states adamantly,

From the core

Of the primal power

Of his being.

She looks away

To barely say,

“Just a paper cup

Filled with sweat

And some dreams.”