he and i

laying on a soft quilt

the cloud cover making the room dimly lit,

but even then i can make out the details in his face;

like the freckles sprinkled acrossed his right cheek,

 the curve of his smile as i remind him i love him,

and how softly his eyelashes are placed in such perfection

as if angels had kissed every single strand before sending him here.

he and i

in comfortable silence

our bodies entangled,

and then he asks me to talk about something

anything.

my mind leads me to my childhood, and soon im spitting monologues of my past as if i were on my death bed.

i tell him about all of the places i want to take him,

he smiles at that thought.

i love to make him smile.

soon enough, i ran out of things to say.

the silence took over the dusk atmosphere

his heartbeat was a familiar tune i had grown used to.

i feel safe.

he tells me that he loves me-

and i believe him

he tells me its going to be okay-

and i believe him

he tells me im beautiful-

and i [try to] believe him.