He hugs me tight;

Not enough to hurt,

But like he does not

Want to let me go

(Her tickle spot,

Once discovered,

Was easily abused,

Especially during a hug)

He twists my words into

Something else that makes me

Blush, and still I giggle,

Talking more

(She smelled of

Tender-sweet roses,

Which was ironic,

Considering - & irresistible)

He makes me laugh, a lot.

I'm always smiling and

Happy, unworried.

I want him to kiss me.

(Forget the heat,

Her hand fits

Perfectly in mine,

Finger by finger.)

As much as I fuss,

I love the scratch of his stubble

And the wet remains of his

Lips on my cheek

(I hate pictures,

Which we took for an hr,

And the movie was dumb,

But she was with me.)

I know that I'm a

Horrible kisser

And yet he kissed me again

And again…