My love is the smell of sugar.

Sweet, it dances up in greeting.

Tender and tantalizing,

Leaving me hungry for more.

My love is the smell of books.

Old and familiar,

Churning deep within,

Stirring emotions into a froth.

My love is the warmth of fire.

Protection radiating from the hearth.

Settling deep into the bones.

Enticing and safe.

My love is the warmth of summer.

Newfound freedom laid out to sun.

Humid and heavy,

Comfortably weighted to me.

My love is the feeling of flight.

Wonder filled, soaring high above.

Careless and reckless,

Running fingers through clouds.

My love is the feeling of childhood.

Pure and chaste,

Dancing in rain laden puddles.

Singing nonsensical tunes to the sky.

My love is the taste of apple pie

Flavor of home.

Lethargic Sundays spent in bed.

Lazy and content.

My love is the taste of coffee

Bitter and crisp,

Seeping into my tongue.

Staining my breath.

My love is the texture of silk

Slipping, tickling my lips.

Teasing and provoking,

A wisp of sin.

My love is the texture of brick.

Strong and abrasive.

A foundation to build upon.

Vigorous, it holds firm.

My love is the sound of laughter.

Infectious, it builds in rapture.

Hopeful and Innocent,

It holds on to my heart.

My love is the sound of the trees.

Leaves clattering in the wind.

Strange and mystical.

Soft, and tranquil.

My love is all these things.

But nothing, if not for you.

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