I love the curve of her lips,
the way her laughter spills like honey,
and the strength in his hands,
rough yet tender as twilight.
Her eyes hold galaxies,
swirling with storms and secrets,
while his voice is a deep river,
carving canyons in my soul.
I crave the softness of her touch,
fingers tracing constellations on my skin,
and the heat of his embrace,
a wildfire I’d gladly burn in.
She tastes of summer wine,
sweet and intoxicating,
he of winter smoke,
a warmth that lingers long after.
They are not opposites but echoes,
two melodies woven into one song,
her grace, his grit,
both homes I return to.
Love is not a choice but a tide,
pulling me to shores both fierce and gentle,
where her moon and his sun
meet in the horizon of my heart.
ASK JESSI 
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