His hair an auburn red, I bury my face and hands in
His straw colored mane for warmth,
He stands quietly, just being.
His perfection in my eyes is massive, just like his stature.
I look to the side to discover perfection of a different form,
Quietly and delicately latching on to his auburn side,
Surviving the warmth which he exudes.
The gentleness and beauty of the moment is not lost on me,
The perfection I see, both big and small, puts me at ease.