Much like roots of a tree sprout
love molds into what it desires, clinching the one
it desperatley seeks
everything that makes it
whole
one who can finish sentences before they are spoke
and understand unspoken words
never blind to pain nor needs
magic hands that soothe the wildest fires within a
troubled
soul
loving no matter how bad the storm is, or how you both shall
deteriorate
never venturing from one another, or falling into an empty
temptation
knowing the cost of such foolshness
love knows no boundaries, it shines in the darkest of days
and grows in the worst of storms