her eyes gold when she looks at me. drinking me up. my skin tingling where her gaze falls and the rest of the expanse of my brown skin laying untouched. like the dark side of the moon, cold and drying up. she's reverant about it, breathing life onto my skin, and then sucking it in, like she doesn't want me to exist. (but that's not it. that's not it.) she stares into my eyes. unwavering. giving new meaning to the word "lover." she loves me. loves me. loves me like i'm her last breath. and i trust her to. always on her mind, i lay dainty like a flower, feral like a fire. singing her, singing her. (because i'm her pyre.) legs crossed, ankles bare. arms gracefully grasping the air. i'm the birth of venus dear. this is the picture she paints of me in her mind. she chokes on me. overflowing with the love she has for me. it drips from her eyes. like molten red. i hear her heart pounding. pounding so loud i can see. and i lay my right palm against it, asking her with my eyes. is that for me? in answer, she swallows me down, doesn't make a sound. and our colours meld. and i know my heart is safe with her, and well held. she lays her hands on me and drinks me up like she knows i want to be in her veins. she blushes at the thought of me and i her. and i'm singing her, singing her. (because she's in my veins.) and suddenly we are songs....