You've got a face made for black and white
and a body fit to warm cool sheets.
You steal my breath like those rainy days
when the huddled earth is soundly sleeping.
I think I was in love once. I think.
If nothing else, my heart hurt in that special way.
But I've never wanted a simple touch, a sigh
or a groggy yawn, or anything quite this much.
When I step beneath the spotlight,
dizzy on neon and noise,
I think only of your eyes and the scent of your skin
and I yearn to reach for the light switch.
Your smile is the steam from a coffee cup
and your voice is the crinkle of newsprint.
You are soft. You're familiar. You're subdued
You're the comfort of an old T.V set.
The blankets melt away and my bare feet cross the floor,
beckoned to another technicolor day.
I would rather bask forever in our greyscale bedroom
warmed by blood alone.
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