Nor is it the way your fingers trail heat across my flesh where moments ago chilled goosebumps were raised.
It isn’t the way your lips lure the truth of my desires, spilling secrets never before revealed.
It isn’t in the myriad of ways you make me scream the physical pleasure you take me for.
Or how in your absence my windows fog with memories of our deeds.
No my Angel,
It is the way your passion devours my soul that keeps me yours everlasting.