Palm of Gold

"Why so down?"

I perked up at the sound of his voice.

"Just thinking," I mumbled. He slid closer to me, studying my face to find what was wrong. His smile lifted my mood. The way that it was so soft that it seemed fake, yet was so real.

"I dunno, love, I guess."

"Love? What about," he asked. His eyebrows perked up in question, like a mischievous child.

"Not to sound like a faux-philosopher, but I've just been thinking about if love was real. If it is, why does it take so long to arrive for those that long for it." His giggles sent shivers of joy up my spine.

"That seems pretty philosophical to me. I think that it takes its time because it needs hope. You can't have love if you don't hope that it's there, even if you can't see it. Just because we don't see something doesn't mean it isn't there. Some of the most wonderful things in the world are invisible. Trusting in invisible things makes them more powerful and wonderous." His words were honey and sweetened my brain as I listened. It all was covered in silk from there. We showered each other in affection. His love was my fuel and mine likewise. At his touch, my world became a paradise. His palm was gold and I could relish in the small touches of my love, that showed more affection than stars in space.