to be in love, is a gliding form.
the science and poetry of movement. the vulnerability. your axis spins on a new dimension.
my dearest lover. being away from you is the hardest of punishments. your quiet eyes, sparkling with plum emotion. your gentle smile, your gentler caress.
i've read about it, analysed it in so many stanzas, books, lyrics. but nothing can compare to this, my love. no one writes about the languid days. when we mesh into stillness in one, when the passion puts it head down to rest. we are still one, you and i. we are the quiet spring of contentment. likened to fingers linked on a cool, spring night. and i can not wait to spend every quiet, breezy spring night with you. under the stars, counting the cricket chirps and the sounds of the night and naming the stars.
i can't wait to show you my world. i can't wait to see yours.
the science and poetry of movement. the vulnerability. your axis spins on a new dimension.
my dearest lover. being away from you is the hardest of punishments. your quiet eyes, sparkling with plum emotion. your gentle smile, your gentler caress.
i've read about it, analysed it in so many stanzas, books, lyrics. but nothing can compare to this, my love. no one writes about the languid days. when we mesh into stillness in one, when the passion puts it head down to rest. we are still one, you and i. we are the quiet spring of contentment. likened to fingers linked on a cool, spring night. and i can not wait to spend every quiet, breezy spring night with you. under the stars, counting the cricket chirps and the sounds of the night and naming the stars.
i can't wait to show you my world. i can't wait to see yours.
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