“Wave your wand while the magic’s still there.”

Someday is a romantic lie, right now is an urgent truth.

She’s got sunshine in her eyes, and it ain’t even daylight.

She’s battling things her smile will never tell you about.

May your cold nights die a warm death.

Love is wealth in the pockets of the heart.

Don’t bring her dead flowers, take her to where the flowers live.

Her light is true love, her darkness a seductive mistress.

Last night (we exchanged so much DNA) we became each other.

Soak me in your moonshine and fuck me on fire.

My day feels too damn organized, you should come over tonight and make a mess out of me.

Half my mind is sex and songs.

When they question you about my disappearance, Do not tell them I am lost inside you.

What do you do when the passion burns out? Start another fire.

Her kiss is a sun-burn that never heals.

She comes in form of blistering light : her love is a screaming sun.

Caution never wrote a love story.

I see things written in the sky, Spelled out in plain and ordinary ways, even the unpoetic becomes magic when read next to you.

A daughter of mystery and moonlight magic danced within her veins her spirit singing a sweet melody as the goddess within her reigns.

My love you are, magic in the mountains moonlight on the meadow mantras at midnight, and molecules of my heart.

You need to be broken, to let the rays of hope in. Every broken piece can be fixed, it’s the glue that has to settle in, let time do its magic.

There is magic in the minuscule.

I’m aching to be with you, hold you touch you feel you. It won’t be long when we sing along. Hang in there my precious, wade away all the hysteresis. We will meet again soon, recreating the magic, the tune.

You don’t realize how magical a moment is until it becomes a memory.

She touched the curves of letters that made art on her paper, knowing too well that they will give shape to the smiles of her admirers.