All he ever wanted...

Love is all I require.

All I could want and desire.

Lust is not enough,

I need his tender kiss and touch; and

Admiration

for love is a healing station.

It is an eighty-mile-per-hour wind.

I smile. He grinned.

Warm in those arms:

I touch my fingers to his palms.

We continue like this, I don't want to miss.

Or should I throw it all away, and start again?

The heart-break tells me no.

I don't want to. Go! I have to stay.

Stay the night he insists. Luring me in with his cute charm and a kiss,.

But it hurts that this is superficial. I pray for it to just 

be: real and official.

Every mili-second, of every hour we share

Love is looming in the air.

Or is it dooming? The bond we have, forever blooming.

Scented candles and bubble baths.

Drinking Prosecco out of a very nice glass.

We go to the theatre. Front row seats.

Out in the city, for a bite to eat...

He's everything he wants. 

                                        But nothing that he has.

   By Shaun Warmington

a poem from the heart.