hello, lou mou!
please enjoy a little poem from me, your birthday & christmas gifts...
happy birthday & merry christmas, love matthew.
Wrapped in tinsel and sparkling under fairy lights, I realise for the first time in a long time, I am deliriously happy. Because, of course, of course, being in love is amazing and maybe one never really feels like living unless they're trapped in an electric kiss, but right now I'm with my your family and my family, and right now electricity doesn't matter because I adore these people too, and I adore the haze and the happiness and the heat in the air. I most of all adore you and maybe we are destined for the stars and maybe soulmates don’t actually exist at all but all I know is that I’m ready for this, and us, and a life with someone warm and kind in this new year. I’m ready to love and be loved. It's scary. I mean, I am absolutely terrified. You are the embodiment of everything I have ever wanted, even those things I told myself would never be. Your eyes caring, beaming with curiousity and kindness, but still not familiar enough for me to understand every inch or them; trust me, that'll be first on my list if you let me. Your lips soft and flushed red from the cold. Kissing them is a neverending drug, an euphoria I know I'll get addicted to. So beautiful a skin - though your hands are rugged from working and using them, and I feel the disheveled pieces of skin inside my palms when I intertwine within yours, I wouldn't have it any other way. An instict, almost primal, surges in me when you try to fiddle with the skin. "Take care of your lovely hands", I say, and immediately excuse myself for interferring, puzzled with the need to take care and keep you safe. I know I'm falling in love with you, and it scares every sense and insecurity within me. Do I dare do this again? Because you can take my heart raw. You can rip me apart. Your voice already indulging me in the sweetest way, my heart smiling and beaming when your dialect turns rural, despite your intention. Your thoughts so delicately spoken, suprising me and making me adore you hopelessly for your mind and perception alone; you are the art you fell in love with when studying french impressionism and beautiful colourstrokes - you are my masterpiece unfold. I guess what I'm trying to say is, Merry Christmas, gorgoues. I love you so much, xo Matty Moo.
