What is it about us?
That combination of lust and adoration that your eyes radiate, which, when aggregated your super-high libido, and unconstrained desire, make me weak at the knees. Not to mention at the knicker elastic.
Your inability to resist teasing and tormenting me, holding back from passion just to agonize me further until that split second before I can no longer bear it — all of which is implausibly tempered by your underlying softness and warmth, try though you may to hide it.
It’s your touch, but not only your touch.
It’s your eyes, but not only your eyes.
It’s your smile, but not only your smile.
It’s that indefinable something that drives me to squeeze an extra half hour of the day just to see you.
The phrase “match made in heaven” is laughable, since if it had been, it might have been made way back when, in the days of yore.
As a phrase, is it even relevant today? To us? I’m not sure. Maybe.
But there’s just something about you and me that ignites the fireworks. All over the place.