I love the curve of your hips.
I love the arc of your neck as you turn.
I love the heat of your skin when I kiss along your jaw; I love the strong line of your collarbones and the hollow between them.
I love the softness of your skin, the scent of it in the morning- warm and calm and vulnerable- and in those moments when I kiss you and your hair curls around my fingers, when I can taste the adrenaline on your tongue.
I love the incalescence of your breath, the earnest pull of your lips and the hands that rove over my skin.
I love the shadows your eyelashes cast on your face when you close your eyes; I love your steepled fingers under your chin and the smirk that curls the side of your mouth, as arrogant and pompous and irritating as it is.
I love the ever-changing colour of your eyes- light brown to green; tormented sea to dreary gray and everything in-between.
I love the dulcet tones of your voice, deep and dangerous and scathing and only soft when we're alone- I crave your attention and your company; I want you constantly.
I'll never say these things, but I…
I love you.