This Is What Love Is

It is your nipples hardening the moment he calls you to tell you he is on his way, it is your nipples hardening just seeing his name light up on the phone screen as he calls. It is your nipples hardening when you’re taking a lazy stroll through the village center, it is your nipples hardening as he pulls you closer to him in the middle of the night.

Love is your nipples hardening as you watch him at the kitchen sink, rinsing the last glass and putting it on the steel board to dry; it is your nipples hardening as he holds your hand in the mat where even though full of passengers, you are lost in your own world together.

Love is your nipples hardening and he knowing that he makes your nipples harden and casually, deliberately, doing things to make your nipples harden.

It is softly sliding his hand into your dress to reach between your thighs, under the table in a crowded restaurant. It is slowly breathing into your neck and nuzzling it with his tongue when you’re in the supermarket queue, it is playfully rubbing your breasts and refusing to stop at the back of the taxi.

Love is cunnilingus, gracefully given, with the air of ardent worship, love is making you scream and writhe and explode, just for the heck of it.

Love is beauty, love is joy, love is grace. Love is happiness, love is fun, love is not seeing anything wrong with the other but even delighting in the others weaknesses, frailties, deviations.

Love is not being yourself, but being the other, love is transcending you.

Love is holding your beloved’s soul in your palm like a fragile egg, and even being more careful with it than you might be with your own.

Love is not seeing imperfections cause all is perfect about your beloved, love is knowing what you know.

Love is a special kind of eyeglass that you can keep on or take off at will, love is a steamy dish whose heat will last as long as you want.

Love is sunshine and butterflies, swimming pools and leaves, red wine and chocolates.

Love is eating yoghurt off his back and drinking wine out of his mouth.
Love is standing in the kitchen and getting swept up in waves of heat as he comes from behind, encircles you with his arms and with his his fingers, mercilessly plunges into your crotch.

Love is when he helps you buy a bicycle, when he tells you how great you are, when he fills your house with flowers. Love is when he writes you a love letter, when he calls all through the day, when he’s happy to be your toy.

Love is when he’s home early, when he houses you when homeless, when he takes care of your beef with nary a word. Love is when he carries your burdens, when he takes your fall, when he stands in front of the fire for you.

Love is when he pays your school fees, when he encourages your dreams, when he’s available for advice whatever hour of day or night.

Love is when he does you even if he’s not feeling like it, when he get’s angry cause you don’t want to hang out with his friends, when he cooks you an elaborate meal and is anxious about if you will like it or not.

Love is him giving you money when you haven’t asked for it, love is his absolute incapacity to say no to anything you ask.

Love is phone calls to check up, love is being the apple of his eye, love is his unabashed, untrammeled, shameless adoration.

Love is giving you and giving you and giving you and giving you until you have to say, enough!

But love is also receiving.

Love is a gracious thank you to a compliment well given, love is a hearty eating of a well cooked meal.

Love is good advice taken, love is a glass of wine accepted, love is enjoying a night out with that one.

Love opens your heart wide as an ocean, spurts out like molten lava from a volcano, blows with the fury of a hurricane.

Love is as big as a mountain, as tall as a tree, as splendid as the sun.

Love is as inflaming as an inferno, as cool as an ocean breeze, as beautiful as a meadow.

This, is love.

© Kingwa Kamencu [Facebook, Twitter]

PHOTO CREDIT: Evans Dims Photography