Bleed

it’s said we bleed the things 
we love the most

all I can think about
is the way you sneak behind me
in the kitchen and squeeze me into you, 
nuzzling your face into my neck,
whispering sweet and naughty
phrases as your whiskers tickle,
giving me goosebumps 

the way you tuck me in at night,
pulling the covers up just how I like them,
smoothing the white duvet, 
tucking it over my exposed shoulder
so I don’t get cold, 
then crawling in to mold your body 
around mine

the way you watch me when I don’t know 
you’re watching, 
and I look up, meeting your gaze unexpectedly,
only to see that expression on your face
that still gives me butterflies,
the look in your eyes saying much more 
than words ever could

the way we laugh till our bellies hurt, 
and cry free tears,
our emotions free to be exactly 
what they are

the way you exude appreciation 
and gratitude

the way you make me feel 
safe and wanted,
protected and adored

the way you make me feel 
like I am exactly where 
I belong 

if we bleed the things we love most,
then surely I bleed 
you 

-image via Pixabay

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10 thoughts on “Bleed

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