Your smile that melts my heart. 
Your glistening chest at breakfast. 
Your hand in mine, that first time and every time.
Your giddy anticipation of a freshly cleaned home.
Your just tipsy eyes.
Your bare neck as you moan in ectasy.
Your sun touched shoulders.
That flood between your legs in Las Vegas.
The first outfit, even though you choose the third.
The late night phone calls after Girl’s Night Out.
That welcome home kiss.
Your body longing for my fingers.
The joy you get from a stop at Lotus.
Your pulled back hair last night at dinner.
The way you honor your mom.
Your inability to be judgmental.
Your legs across my lap.
That little peak of bra strap underneath your Jimmy Buffet t-shirt.
The last time you said, “I love you.”
The next time you’ll say, “I love you.”