My home is not a building.
Not a specific place.
My home is you.
Your eyes are the open doors for me to walk in.
Your arms pull me into your warmth like a warm fire in the fireplace.
Your chest like the large room where we are wrapped up in a warm blanket on the sofa just enjoying each other's company in silence.
Your kiss intoxicates me.
It makes reality melt away as soon as I close my eyes.
It feels almost as if the ground evaporates from beneath me like a cool mist, and all that's left is you and I.
The only thing keeping me from floating into the nothingness is you, so I hold on for dear life as my passion consumes me.
You pull me back to our home, back to the large room with the fireplace. The thing that then warms me is not the blanket but my love burning from within me.
This home we have created is no building, nor place.
It is a feeling.
We have built our home piece by piece together from love, and when you are with the right person it doesnt seem like work. You wont even notice that the work is done until it is.
Home is wherever you are together. It is not one person, but two people, deeply in love, that build this place together out of each other. And they plan to stay that way forever.
Home.
