Dating : Home is Where the Heart is

A poem about love.

He kisses me on the mouth. Down to my neck.
Bites, leaves a mark. There’s pressure. Then a peck.
Heads south after that until he finds a place to park.
Kisses like fairy-lights and they lead him through the dark.

He stops a second later, at the space above my heart.
Presses his lips to my skin — and then I feel them part.
It’s such a delicate touch, this. Like it’s my skin doing the kissing.
My heart reaches out to him like he’s the beat that’s missing.

“This,” he then whispers. I can feel his words on my soul,
If my body is his paper, then let him cover me whole.
“This is where I live now.” He kisses my chest, then his lips roam.
My heart hammers in confirmation, welcoming him home.