words kept close and spoken in the dark [POETRY - Completed]

She And Her Lover - ORIGINAL PROSE

Her eyes scanned her lover's features, as he slept peacefully in the early morning light draping through her bedroom curtains, hues of blue and orange cascading over their slender bodies, partially covered by white cotton sheets, decorated with yellow and green accents, abstract in their complexity. She thought them beautiful, for they said nothing at all, her mind running free from the shackles of meaning and purpose. This thought carried her eyes to her lover's broad nose: a memory, stemming from their night of shared passion, of his nose, peppered with early summer's freckles, nuzzling the crook of her neck, a series of light giggles erupting from her lips. Lips, the word commanded her as her eyes drifted to the curve of his mouth, memorising the soft touch, their pump, light pink shade, concealing the brightest smile she had ever seen, so captivating it had been, drawing her in, his cheesy pick-up lines and light chuckles a beautiful melody to her ears. His long, luscious locks of thick brown hair fell over his jawline, so rich and healthy it was, so different to her short pixie, ruffled, her own brunette roots peeking through the strands of blonde bleach; periodic rising of his chest, up and down, inhale, exhale, and the occasional tossing and turning told her he would awake soon, the sound of his stomach rumbling causing an involuntary smile to form across her features. When he rose from his restful sleep, his kind blue eyes shone with contentment and a hint of something akin to joy, his heart skipping a beat at the memory of their long, eventful night of embrace, the beauty smiling at him with her tender brown eyes reciprocating his feelings. He couldn't forget her name, so magical to his ears, a symphony unto itself: Angel. A perfect fit, for the perfect woman.

He sat up in the midst of messy sheets and hastily thrown clothes, both naked beneath the covers. The pillows were as comfortable as clouds, his head and shoulders cushioned against what he could only assume were feathers of the softest variety. She scooted up against his strong frame, nestling her head against his broad chest, her eyes fluttering shut as she felt the peace his presence nurtured; her lover ran his fingers through her hair, his free hand stroking her forearm with his thumb soothingly. After a few moments, she glanced up at him, wide-eyed, her grin bubbly and loving; he mirrored her eagerness, his stomach doing backflips as she inched up, closing the distance between his face and hers, her lips tender and chapped in the wake of morning, their kiss chaste, slow, quiet in comparison to their shared night of passion some hours prior.

When she pulled back, their fingers intertwined, their legs laced together, her grin was full of excitement and joy, her eyes upturned in a giddy kind of elation; he knew her not in her entirety, if that were possible which he wasn't entirely sure, but he wanted to know her with his whole heart. He had his whole heart to give. He hoped she felt the same way.

"Hey stranger." She murmured, and she did, she did, she did.