Gods Die

Deep, warm, ambler-like honey, spread over the portholes to your soul.

The sweetness rolls right off and down into your smile.

There’s something about the way your perfect pearly teeth contrast the sleep still stuck in your eyes.

Full of energy in your expression, yet still engulfed in the way we are intertwined underneath the covers.

Is this what Heaven on Earth feels like?

Feeling your velvet & supple skin against my fingertips, tracing my way back to the scruff of your facial hair.

I can only hear your breathing and my own heartbeat.

Somehow caught in a symbiotic rhythm that we can only dance to.

“Good Morning” I say, as I nuzzle further into you, pressing my lips against any part of you they happen to touch.

The scent of Home filling my nose, relaxing me even further.

Inhaling even deeper the next time, my subconscious checking if I am still alive.

I swear,