Post by Fela on Dec 24, 2005 19:40:01 GMT -5
I love you in small ways. Like gathering crimson and gold leaves on the avenue to take them home to you, to show you something as beautiful as you are to me. Like giving you a cup of hot coffee to cradle in your chilled hands. Like a lipstick kiss on the mirror when I go. A river-smoothed stone for your pocket. A page torn from my journal and placed beneath your pillow.
My love for you is a bird motionless, but soaring in the sky. It's the moment I became painfully aware of my soul, the epiphany, the shift of everything known to something unknown, but so fucking brilliant I cannot turn from it. It's the desire to let my love for you spill from my lips to every passerby, every stranger, every face. I want to tell them all who you are to me, what you mean to me, and what part of me you so completely possess.
It's a sip of something cool when my lips are too dry to do more than sigh your name. It's a moment of clarity-- when everything is understood for a tiny moment, but when the understanding dissipates I'm left with the belief that everything will be as it should be. It's the way your voice washes over me, swims through me, and echos in my slumber.
It's the feeling when I've climbed too high and the altitude makes me swoon. It's the vertigo at the edge of the cliff. It's the rain stinging my skin. It's the warmth of the sun kissing me though you cannot.
I love you in all ways. I love the concept of you, the whole of you, unfinished and brilliant in your fucking desire to be whole, to be true. I love your compassion. It feels like soft grasses to lay my body in.
Your love feels catastrophic and I know I will die still having it. It is the cracking of my ribs to make room for my expanding heart overfilling with love for you. It's the tilt of my head as I gasp for air, made breathless as I am by you. It's the invisible body bruise desiring you leaves on me.
I love you in ways that are endless. You've marked me invisibly, tagged me as yours. You've carved yourself into my skin, into the soft pink of my lip. My cells have been corrupted, my DNA compromised by the insurgence of your contaminating love.
I love you. I love you but the words to express it completely are not yet discovered. We've not yet invented the words that will convey how I love you, how much, how deeply, how completely I love you.
I will spend my life searching for syllables.
My love for you is a bird motionless, but soaring in the sky. It's the moment I became painfully aware of my soul, the epiphany, the shift of everything known to something unknown, but so fucking brilliant I cannot turn from it. It's the desire to let my love for you spill from my lips to every passerby, every stranger, every face. I want to tell them all who you are to me, what you mean to me, and what part of me you so completely possess.
It's a sip of something cool when my lips are too dry to do more than sigh your name. It's a moment of clarity-- when everything is understood for a tiny moment, but when the understanding dissipates I'm left with the belief that everything will be as it should be. It's the way your voice washes over me, swims through me, and echos in my slumber.
It's the feeling when I've climbed too high and the altitude makes me swoon. It's the vertigo at the edge of the cliff. It's the rain stinging my skin. It's the warmth of the sun kissing me though you cannot.
I love you in all ways. I love the concept of you, the whole of you, unfinished and brilliant in your fucking desire to be whole, to be true. I love your compassion. It feels like soft grasses to lay my body in.
Your love feels catastrophic and I know I will die still having it. It is the cracking of my ribs to make room for my expanding heart overfilling with love for you. It's the tilt of my head as I gasp for air, made breathless as I am by you. It's the invisible body bruise desiring you leaves on me.
I love you in ways that are endless. You've marked me invisibly, tagged me as yours. You've carved yourself into my skin, into the soft pink of my lip. My cells have been corrupted, my DNA compromised by the insurgence of your contaminating love.
I love you. I love you but the words to express it completely are not yet discovered. We've not yet invented the words that will convey how I love you, how much, how deeply, how completely I love you.
I will spend my life searching for syllables.
