Two Things I Want To Tell You

I want that touch of when we're not doing anything special, just cuddling on the couch. You'd play with my hair and run your fingers through it. You'd start at the roots and go down to the tips. You'd brush stray hairs away from my face and maybe even caress my cheek. You've done this before, I remember. I remember the touch; I remember feeling; I remember the chill that I would get.

I want the kisses that you used to give when you were courting me. You'd find a way to hover over me whenever I would be sitting down. You'd lean in real close and whisper, "What are you doing?" Your lips would brush against my cheek, making promises of the eventual kiss that will be bestowed upon it. We'd converse in whispers and at some point you'd lightly press a kiss on my neck or on my cheek. I'd briefly close my eyes and just bask in the feeling.