I look at his face, I stare at it in awe. I love this man and the depths of my love for him is endless. I am damned by my heart, the gluttony of its love for him is selflessly selfish. It consumes my thoughts, my time, my energy, my whole life. 

If you were to slice me down the center and expose my blood, the letters of his name would spill forth and pronounce themselves in shouts. An M would come pouring from my throat, an A from my heart, the double T’s would shock and awe the world as my sternum broke open, and each of my vessels pumped out the Hand, the E, and the W spread itself encasing the whole of me. 

But my eyes would still see his face. The soul of his life, the heart of him. My eyes would still see my reflection. My lips would still breath his name, and my body would still live for his touch. 

My mind would burn for his fight, for his understanding, for his intelligence, my mind would still burn for its equal. 

I stare and look at him, finding myself falling deeper, greedily, yet perfectly in love with him.