What you don’t know is that when you are sleeping, I stay up watching you. I trace the contours of your face, your torso, your hands, all the while your skin glows luminous from the streetlamps filtering through the windows, or the moonlight floating its way into the room. I count the rhythm of your breathing, watch your chest rise up and down slowly.
I try to remember the outlines of your body, memorizing the order of your moles and freckles. I do this all instead of saying this: I love you.
(via here)
