There's a certain kind of warmth that slides off the edge of your thoughts, heavy and slick, dark and veiled, silky and smooth as ink to imprint on your heart.
...and these are those words.
Special thanks to @sparrowed
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I love you dearly. That is the art of being. The oxygen of breathing. That is, the substance to living That dulls the sun of its shining And brings peace to war.
You see it's that simple.
I don't need metaphors, Similes or any other conjuring. My love is poetry enough.
***
"And now my heart beats --not to keep me alive -- but to keep straining to contain all that is you."
