She has ink dripping
from her lips. He blames
that on the poetry she
drinks after each and
every kiss she gives to
him on his cheeks and
ribs. Sometimes in his
mouth as she claims that
it's her cathedral and the
only place where she
confesses all of her darkest
sins. He sends kisses down
her spine. As if it holds the
knobs to the doors of her
fragile broken soul. Hoping
that each kiss will lead him
in. This is the story of where
their new life begins. There
tangled in the sheets of his
warm cozy bed. And that was
the moment when they both
paused and said the best is yet
to come. And our young love
will live on and on* ~