I hope she simmers in
The depth of your smile,
Holds your gaze a moment more,
Finds home in your arms,
And adores the way you blush.
I hope she runs her hands through your hair
And caresses your nape,
Syncs to your heartbeat on loop,
Her fingers trace your muscles,
And lips map your veins.
I hope she wears your stolen shirt,
Straddling you to read taboo confessions aloud,
The tension melting from her bones
Under the heat of your hands,
As she settles into the waves cascading.
I hope she knows in each moment
You think only of her,
And savor her taste in your mouth.
She is your quickened breath.
I hope she knows.
-Melissa Donley