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 Feb 2020
Eryck
If that's what it takes:
I'll pluck a strand of her hair, make myself small,
use it as a rope and climb down her throat.
Hike to her heart and set up camp there.

Make myself smaller and surf through her veins,
get to know her inside out,
set up shop in her brains.
Paddle round her ear canal,
get some ear wax.
Whisper that I need her,
But yell I love her, yell it to the max.

I'll  go out of my way:
I'll show her, help her, always to buy her.
Pamper her, preen her, never deny her.
Take her, forsake her, defend her from factions.
Proof of love is based not just on emotions...but actions.

That's what I'll do:
With hearts a pumping, bodies thumping, glands a screaming.
That's one way to show off loves true meaning.
But after fun, there's work to be done, under the sun.
After all, someone's got to pick up the dry cleaning.

Then I'll finally know:
I'll done coo her, done woo her,
no leaf left unturned.
My heart open and hoping, not to get burned.
All this work will be put into my many satisfactions,
Proof of love is based not just on emotions... but actions.
Love is an emotion. Proof of real love goes a step further by the physical DOING of things for another in the form of actions.  Just an idea I've been kicking around.
 Feb 2020
jordan
looked up to you so long
i stumbled on your feet
didn't realize we stand
on the same street

but your status didn't fall
in fact you helped me see
in view of everything
the one i need is me
 Feb 2020
Alyssa Underwood
The paradox of the Christian life
is that while we are called to die
we are also called to fight and
while we are called to fight
we are also called to love
But to die and keep dying
is the crux of our fight
and love for God is what
enables us to win the battle
 Jan 2020
Naceur Ben Mesbah
She sees the world
Through my eyes
You see her blind
I don't really mind
I am her eyes
She is my beautiful days
I feel the world
Through her heart
She paints the world
Through my eyes
We are two souls
And one mind
Among other  lovers
Hard to find.
 Jan 2020
Alyssa Underwood
child of heart
but not of womb,
would i'd been
gifted to ban the
hope-thieving,
spirit-throwing
parasitic lies,
to shelter ears
& fragile petals
against bruising,
whiskey-glazed
acts and words.
would i might be
gifted now to
soothe, cradling
tender soul through
deadest night's
watery gloom.
yet firmly i know
none other will ever
be gifted to bestow
what only One balm
can perfectly renew,
and He waits for you,
my beautiful girl.
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