“You’re my Sunday morning and my Saturday night.”

Don’t shame a woman for speaking her truth because it should be universal.

My mind is the double helix that twists and turns around my voice.

Longing made a home in my body.

A year ago we battled atoms to see each other – spaced apart but still so close together in heart.

I could write another love poem but my metaphors get mixed like the drinks I had the night that more than our paths crossed – strongly.

The stars can’t compete with your glow so don’t let the world take it away.

Our love is that light up every room star.

Tied up by my heartstrings, I can’t break free from feelings – the restraints too tight, the love too strong.

But once your eyes met mine, addiction blossomed and I was undone – petals unfurling toward the light you held.

Your eyes: a tender illustration of love, how you paint affirmations across my bare skin.

Write me a poem in Morse code, goosebumps on my skin and lines on your neck.

Your legs twitch in your sleep like you’re running to me in your dreams.

Look at our story: It is enduring.

The monsters are no longer under our beds.

I never liked nicknames until mine crossed your lips like sugar.

Every word you say to me is forever a gift and I never forget the present.

What you are to do without me I cannot imagine.

One should always be in love. That’s the reason one should never marry.

Mindful time spent with the person we love is the fullest expression of true love and real generosity.

Real love begins where nothing is expected in return.

I love to do the things the censors won’t pass.

If the customer loves you, the government will have to love you.

But if there’s love, dear – those are the ties that bind, and you’ll have a family in your heart, forever.

If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die.