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Perfection Defined

I had another dream about you. This time it was at night. We were lying outside on a blanket covering the dewy grass and watching the stars. I was cuddled up against your side and your arm was under my head, holding me close. I found myself look at you instead of the stars, studying your eyes and the shape of your jaw. And then you were looking at me, looking into my eyes. And instead of it being awkward, it just felt natural. As though we were two like beings just taking each other in. In a sudden burst of confidence, I propped myself up onto one elbow, leaned in closer to your face and said, “Kiss me.” You smiled at me, moved in closer so I could feel the caress of your breath on my face and kissed me. It was perfection defined. Your hand lightly cupped the back of my neck and held my lips against yours. My eyelids fluttered closed in the pleasure of the moment as I felt your fingers caress the sides of my face and up into my hair. I yearned for the moment to last. Then you were pulling me to my feet, your hands wrapped around mine, our lips barely touching. Colors and feelings, scents and tastes, colliding together to create the perfect chaotic moment. The twirling of our bodies together, dancing. Creating a music of our own. The sound of our feet lightly touching the ground: the drumbeat, the rustle of our bodies meeting: the acoustics. The feeling of our lips touching: the chorus. The stars fell from the heavens, showering us with otherworldly magic. Breathtaking sights combined as we floated in the sky, our bodies the only solid matter. Just you and I. Together. 





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