Love is when, he’s talking yet all you can do is stand there gawking, amazed at his beauty and charm, you know he’ll do you no harm.
Love is when, your lips touch his beneath the hot and heavy covers, bursting with the power to sink ships and lovers.
Love is when you subtly crave his fingers to glide across your back, and when they lovingly do, you feel your heavy soul relax.
Love is when you’re both crying with laughter at his most unfortunate fall or joke, carelessly losing yourself in his smile, suddenly to find, you have no worries at all.
Love, is when he takes your hand, both quietly and heroically as he walks you through no mans land.
Love is when his arms fall around you and kisses cascade upon your head.
Love is even when, you are wallowing in the most inconsolable tears with your pillow soaked, eyes both swollen and your self belief dwindling, and he still whispers in response to your stupid question, ‘because you’re my soul mate and I love you’.
Love, I have found, is even when you are writing these words and you suddenly realise they are all about that one specific person.
Love, is the moment I realise this poem is meant for you my love, and all of these sweet definitions of love, are all actually things which define our love and for that I promise to continue admiring these things, because, of course, you’re my soul mate and I love you.