Through music my love you soothe my soul.

Through aural enrapturement you make me whole.

The sounds you suggest, hit home, strike my heart.

The love you’ve shown, hits home, hits hard.

Never stop sending your mix tapes to me.

Always bring me your tunes of belief.

For I will listen long after my eyes fail.

I will listen and love our loves tale.


Come here….

“Come here…” I say quietly.

I’ve been watching you for most of the morning as you busily go about the chores in our tiny little flat.

“I’m busy!” You reply playfully.

“I want to make a mess.” I answer seductively.

“No I’ve just tidied!” Comes your incredulous reply.

“Come here…” I ask again with a spattering of need to my tone and a raised hand of invitation.

“Only if you promise not to make a mess!” You offer a desperate compromise.

“No mess, I promise.” I smile crossing two fingers on my held up hand.

“You devil!” You giggle as you walk to me and bat my hand away before straddling me to settle into a long languid kiss. Our tongues slipping into each other’s mouths to writhe around tasting each other, tasting the passion that suddenly rose. As our mouths and tongues fight for supremacy my hands run up your jogger clad thighs and cup your the perfect buttocks of your arse.

“Fuck you have the ‘best’ arse my girl.” I whisper through a break in the sloppy kiss into which we’ve descended.

You pull back and narrow your eyes to look at mine with faux suspicion. “Really? You’re not just saying that to get laid?”

“I might be.” I giggle and flash a look of pure happiness at which you open your eyes wide to gaze upon.

There and then we both see it, we both feel it. Love, not lust but love, the warm contended feeling of true love.

“I love you.” You whisper as you cup my face with your hands staring into my eyes and soul.

“I love you too.” I respond without pause or thought and gently squeeze your arse in my hands.

Then as quickly as the moment of surreal loving clarity appeared it disappears into the throws of another passionate lustful kiss.