I'm jealous, I still am,
Of things which you say,
In the way only you can;
Your silliness, sarcasm, and humor,
That peculiar go-to phrase.
Your self-doubting intelligence,
Your brow-raising disbelieve,
To appealing compliments,
Which paints an uncanny image.

I'm jealous, I still am,
Of the aura, you unintentionally radiate,
Gravitating other souls to your core.
The unavoidable essence you leave behind;
An unmistakable unique imprint,
The kind left for my breath to find,
And holding desperately onto,
For as long as possible.

I'm jealous, I still am,
Of the embodiment of your mind,
The intended position and width;
Of your vocal and soulful eyes;
Glistening clearly without your consent,
Expressing half-hidden depth,
Sweetly churning, and passionately turning,
The insides of beholding admirers.

I'm jealous, I still am,
Of the fresh and echoing breeze
Which sensually grazes around your lips,
Making them gently part open
After stealing kisses from you,
Sending vibrations through your senses,
Evoking an unconscious silent gasp.

I'm jealous, I still am,
Of the unrestrained extent,
Where your mind wanders to,
Journeying past the realm of innocence;
The yearnings of your flesh,
Those pure tingling feelings,
Twirling around in your mind;
Unclad, unapologetic, and uncensored
© LeozInkz