Love Language of Our Comfort

I love you

with

everything

I have.

Laying next 

to you, 

your breathing

sounds

like a

needle on 

a vinyl

record.

Something that

brings me

comfort.

As I 

pull you in 

closer

are we sleeping

or are 

we dancing?

They might 

be the same. 

I might

crawl into

your dream.

Well,

there is no

need.

As you

hold my

hips

and rest

your

chin

on my neck

we are already

in each

others dreams.

We

are needles

skipping 

on an

old vinyl

record.

Its 

the love 

language

of our

comfort.