Coffee cups
and tangled sheets,
the only place
I'm safe.
  Your love 
  my anaesthetic
against the pain
of the forbidden.
Who takes a pulse,
scribbles it with
their judgments,
and deems it to be
  wrong?
They all did.
Those who wanted to 
'protect' me
from the very thing
that saved me.
  You are my lifesource.
How could they ever
understand that?
Or the way 
we know the deepest
passages of each
other's ateries?
I have walked the corridors
amongst your veins,
I have seen the corners
of your brain.
There's nothing
I do not
adore.
  Your flaws
  are what allows the light
  to shine through you
  when held against
  the window.
And I
am almost transparent
but somehow,
you love me.
 You. love. me.
We trudge amongst
the darkest shadows
contained by these
white sheets
and still we breathe,
  still we endure.
I am in need of repairs,
holes in my fuel tank,
 keep starving 
for more love.
Insatitable appetitie
but you just sigh
and fill me up
 again
with patient hands
and aqua stares.
How could this be
wrong?
  So we tiptoe
to keep our secret.
We have to hold hands
under tables.
  We have to run
when we see anyone 
we know.
Two years
and we're still running,
  still loving,
harder than ever
before.
It's worth
every angst-filled second
to see you smile
at me.
  Always.
Volim te uvek.