Def: the principal method of human communication, consisting of words used in a structured and conventional way and conveyed by speech, writing, or gesture.
Words, affirm that you love me.
Words are my blanket, they keep me warm. Words are an alarm in my heart, reminding me that someone out there, you, exist to love me.
Sex, lots and lots of sex, not just sex but I want you to fuck me like you’re trying to take my soul. That it gets so hot I feel like I’m in hell already, which is probably where I will go.
Inside you (and around you) I feel I understand what death is like, but I also feel so alive. So when I have forgotten how to love you, even for a second, remind me by sticking your head or lower waist between my thighs and have me until I die.
Silence, quietness with you, just knowing you’re here with me, to turn around and feel your energy in my space.
I’d like you to give me that
Space, that’s my language, not too much, but letting me be me, to spend time with myself and letting me miss you. Letting me crave you to be next to me. Letting me yearn for everything that is you not limited to fucking me like crazy but to kissing me like you went to war and I was fearing never seeing you again
I want you to kiss me, I really do. To kiss me everywhere, from my forehead, to my cheeks, my lips, the back of my hand, my back, my chest, my boobs, i love those. I’d like your kisses to be invisible tattoos on my skin
Hands;
I’d like you to hold my hand and it feels real; when I squeeze, squeeze me back, it tells me you’re here, with me, in this moment.
Moments, I’d like to have those with you. I want you to like everything opposite of mine, that way we have things to challenge each other on, to experience.
I’d also like you to love half the things I love though, that way we have inside jokes; I’ll just look at you, smile and you’ll know what I’m talking about.
I forgot, I need space when I am emotional, not to much, but I need space opened in your heart to run back to when I want to feel safe.
Touch me, not sexually but just touch me, to make me feel safe again.
Call me, now and then, not like spam, but remind me that your voice can be and is my favourite song
Ears, sometimes I just want your ears. To vent to; to hear what I am saying. I’ll put my ears on the table for you to, always.
Remember don’t go to bed not loving me.
Transparency, allow me to see you, to open pages of you like a therapist on the couch.
How does that make you feel?
………
Other people, not like that
Yes, other people are my language of love, other voices in my space in the form of penned stories, in the form of staged realities, laughter in a bar and Mexican waves.
Gifts, I love gifts, the sentimental kind. There are so many I have embedded with your feelings that I weep in joy. The ones I will smash to pieces then glue them back together because there are special.
Then there is you.
You are my love language; You in my life. There will be moments were I forgot that, please remind me. When I am mad at you at night give me a kiss on my forehead it will comfort everything.
In your touch I am weak, whisper to me and make love to me in all forms. Afterwards sleep on my chest, or let me sleep on yours and continue to speak to me in lullabies.
You, yes, you are my language of love, my sunshine.
To see you in all your seasons.