je t'aime.

my sleep patterns are off and i am tired, so none of this may make any sense, but:

i think your naivety is cute. adorable, even. adorable to the point where i believe (foolishly) that you are innocent and unassuming, though everything i've known of you has been deceitful and mysterious. my dream this morning was nothing new. your hand cradling my face and my candles blazing bright in the morning air that seeps through my window. the flames cast dancing shadows against james dean's face but all i could see was yours. cuddled nose-to-nose underneath the security of my warm blankets, and i cannot feel anything but your hand -- your thumb running across my jawline and mine across the subtle life lines that make up your body.

(fiona apple's "slow like honey" is playing softly on my stereo system, her voice as soft as the rising sun. as our bodies breathe together, sharing lungs, our hands and hearts move to the rhythm of her deep melody.)

i love this. this feeling of you, but not here.