her patience and understanding. her virtue of love that fuses and discombobulates the togetherness of a forbidden force of nature and reality she yearns. two bodies, one soul ridden with dire consequences of togetherness; but still they seek to make...
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Like the sweetest of honey, the natural beauty of the diverse lands of the human world is enlivened with a rich gold that was the smiling foundation of love and lust plastered in the timidity of a pure blue sky, nurturing of the flamboyance that is the cheeky sun and its extroverted expression of beauty and grace upon the neediness of its life and love beyond. Like little ants scavenging the tunnels of a mound, humans walk the planet freely beneath the harsh rays of sunshine, a beautiful world that gives life to its people and their experiences taking in the sweet symphonies of nature and its wondrous and eternal beauty in the eyes of the submissive.
Like a vessel of love and light, they take in the endless possibilities of sunshine bringing a sultry deepening of melanin in the flesh of the human race. Their skin hot and heads of wild, unruly curls and bodies reeking heavily of chlorine and sunscreen that protects from the uncontrollable beam of the rays down along the sensitivity of their bodies. "It says Love.. I get it for you, my daughter. Mami name you Matheus Amor, which means God's gift of Love. And I give you the name Índiga because it's mami's middle name, and yayo's favorite color.. then I give you mami and daddy's last name because you are a smart and aware Taveres like mami and a strong and resilient D'Amico like daddy.. pero we call you Love because that's what you are, you're love in human form. A creation of love from me and daddy." Love. The most addictive feeling of soulful and heartfelt connection, the rawest form of mental and emotional intimacy that enlivens the sacredness of their bond. The relationship they shared and held near and dear to their gushing hearts as mother and daughter.
It were days like these, not so quiet and filled with the birds chirping and trees dancing, but were days secluded from the large mass of D'Amico and Kingsley's to refrain from overstimulation and an empty social battery that brought a beauty to interactions such as this. The sweet voice that questions innocently, and eyes that squint curiously that brings life to the mother's ruthless loss of humanity from having been confined to the walls and poor treatment of Creedmor and their undying affects on the mind, body, and soul of the humanity they nurture.
"Mama name? W-What you name mama?" Love furrows her brows innocently, her purity and overwhelming curiosity prevailing through the vividness of those gray eyes that fix to the beauty of her mother, adorning her eyes that gaze down at her with the very same love and adoration that brings a toothy smile to her face, flashing her two rows of gapped baby teeth having grown in around her addiction to the pacifier she lacked under the presence of day.
Florence smiles cheekily in the direction of her curious little girl, mind, body, and soul entranced by anything and everything that was the little girl posed before her. She shifts her hands to the transcendence of her daughters generations worth of inherited Salazar-Taveres beauty, her long-nailed fingers timid against the splatter of freckles she caresses softly with her thumb before trailing up to the chlorine curls that lay crazily in her lap to tuck behind the small gold hoop embellished ears of hers. And Love blushes tremendously, growing bashful beneath the eternal admiration of her mesmerized mother who parts her lips to answer, "Mommy's name is Florencía, Florencía Índiga Khalís Salazar Taveres. Pero daddy call me Florence or Flora.." Responds gently the lethally accented voice of the mother whose hands soon drop from their informative gesturing of ASL to clasp the locket that hung from her neck, her motioning lips soon stretching into an amused smile that expresses heavily of the pleasure she gained from the expression of the toddler's curiosity in her direction. With an acute tilting of her head to the right in only the smallest of degrees, Florence purses her lips contemplatively, unknowing of how to answer to the curiosity of the little girl whose hand soon reaches out to take one of Florence's buoyant curls into the grasp of her twirling fingers, admiring the beauty of her endless tresses and distinct features that told heavily of her origination from the Caribbean, and from there Florence careens in mischievously; a slick smile on the face of the mother who insinuates a palm on either side of the anticipating face that squeals beneath the attack of kisses that bring a lethal flush to the smiling face of the toddler. "¡Mami te quiere muchísimo! ¡Mami kiss you mi preciosa patito!"
