I poured my heart out to him,
Like water in a glass.
The reflection of my soul deep within its splashes,
But he slipped as it overflowed.
He didn’t drink it fast enough.
Slipping from every side.
The life of me now splattered on the floor.
Everyone can see,
I poured my heart out to him.
But he slipped.
And all of who I was to him soaked beneath his feet.
For I was apart of him,
And he was only wearing me.

Only they touch me like that.
With their fingers pretending my back is a violin.
Gently running up and down,
They make their way up.
There’s a twirl near my neck,
Rolling into my hair.
Their fingers interlock with my coils,
So gracefully massaging.
They pull my head closer,
Up near the chest, where their heart beat sounds.
My arms wrapped on the waistline, keeping our bodies as one.
This is our love position, closest to the soul.

"And what would be your idea of a perfect day?" He asked.

"I am selfish. I could never be happy
With just a day but I crave the perfect life."

And then I thought,
You have to create your own perfect day, every day, to make a perfect life."