She is someone who falls in love with imperfections. Like the moon with all her craters, hearts with cracks, and souls with scars. For she knows they carry the deepest and truest love of all deep inside.
I can feel you in every part of my body. I do not know how you do it, that you still linger deep inside of my veins bones DNA without even being beside me. But you do and I love that.
She plucked a feather from her magnificent wings and dipped it in ink. She wrote poems bled from her scars guided straight from the depths of her heart.
I knew it was real love the moment I could bare myself to you naked (without taking my clothes off) and I could show you all my scars (the ones that are invisible to the naked eye) and you loved me even more.
Healing is like dealing with the moods of the moon. Somedays you feel the pain at its fullest and you don’t know how to make it through it, and other days it feels a little bit more bearable.
Write your lustful words with the invisible ink of your tongue upon every part of my body, until my mouth begins to moan every single letter in poetry.
