You are every single form and angle of perfect. Perfect for me, of course. As we lay in bed and your strong hand rests on my thigh, your fingers curling gently around its bends, I am in the most brilliant state of happiness. It's light like people don't know yet how to explain. I should suppose a feeling such as this will never be adequately described. I am in awe of this mist of absolute perfection resting on our chests - rising and falling with sleepy breathing.
Oh, I love you. Of course, this you know. But I so do. And these quiet moments of silence nothingness and twitching fingers are some of my favorite memories I'll keep forever. I like to believe that when we are old one day, I'll still recall this very heaven right here. As I lay quietly, hoping the dim light of my phone doesn't wake you, I find myself, as I always do, entranced by your heavy breathing. It is melodic, soothing and something I've become so accustomed to. It's what I fall asleep to, it's my sanctuary. My assurance that tonight's rest is safe -- because you are right beside me -- with your hand on my thigh.
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