His eyes

That look he gives me, the one where he’s half serious, half loving, relaying every syllable and nuance of what his mouth refuses to say. 

The one where he tells me to behave, to focus, controlling the tempo of my body without touching me. 

The one where he’s  reassuring me, loving me, keeping me to him, holding me close, tying us together, the look that makes me small, makes me feel tiny and petite (even though I’m not), yet brings out my hunger, brings out my desires,

 and my most protective instincts. His eyes hold my body, my soul, my world…