Teacups and Pens

Thinking

It's past midnight,

and all I can think about are your eyes. 

They way they pierce mine

from across the room,

they make me tingle,

give me the shivers,

make me weak at the knees. 

It's half past one,

and all I can think about is your lips. 

They way they feel against mine,

the way they move against mine,

I think about the warmth.

Those moments of complete breathlessness,

gasping but not letting go,

in fear that in the next moment,

they'll be gone.

The way they reveal a row of beauty

everytime you smile. 

It's just before three,

and all I can think about are your hands. 

The way they feel intertwined with mine,

the way they clutch a book,

hold a pen,

bake a cupcake,

cup my face and hold it close to yours. 

It's five o'clock,

and now you're in my dreams. 

No need for thinking about you,

when you're right there.

Right where you need to be.