In a field, wide and blessed with flowers of different names, colors and shapes, we lay together on a mat. Feeling the evening breeze of spring ripple through our clothes and hair. Peacefully enjoying the warmth of each other.
"Tell me you love me." He's saying. But who is he? I can only hear the voice. I can't see the face of the man. Just his lips. But I know I'm the one in his arms. He feels so right.
Lying like this in his arms feels like resting at home with my favorite blanket around me. He feels like my safe haven.
"I love you." and he smiles and leans in to kiss me, but I place a palm over his lips and say, "Now you tell me you love me." I say and he chuckles softly. A very pleasant chuckle. His fingers long and thin crawl to my face, stroke my hair and tuck some strands behind my ear. He gently pulls my fingers from his lips and he kisses me. I love his kiss. It's soft, like the brush of a rose petal on my skin.
