Coughing up butterflies.

You and I, coughing up butterflies
And spilling chocolate on the floor
Along with a bottle of wine that we
Bought for our anniversary night
Celebratory bliss in this room with
Lukewarm water in the bathtub and
Empty cups of tea on the dresser
We left the lights on in the closet

I can feel the air between you and I
As we breathe, faces half-buried in
Pillows and I'm fixated on only you
Those dark eyes so full of love and
Your make-up doesn't look nearly
As perfect as you do. Your hair is a
Mess and I swear on everything I am
You couldn't look any more beautiful

You touch my face and I reach for your hand,
Because your fingertips are cold as ice and I
Swore a long time ago that I keep you warm,
That you would never feel cold, never again.

You and I stand up together to pour another drink
And you switch the vinyl on the turntable. There's
The sound of the needle picking up silence. You're
Looking desperately in my eyes and you lean into me.
That taste. I can never get over the taste
Of love when it comes from the press of your lips.
The sound. The song. Those three words
And how they're defined by moments such as this.

You don't need to say it because I know,
But still... you say it anyways.
Just to make sure that I know for sure.
Just so that there isn't any doubt.