It's not just your mind,
Or your heart,
Or even your soul
It's the physical manifestations
Aswell as the poetic infestations
The clicks of your fingers speak the language of arthritis.
Ancient creaks betweens whimpers of pain
The wrinkles on your face draw comparisons to the arid, desert
veins of your starving heart
The canyon and valleys of your teeth show open carcases of decaying gums.
Your smile is LOST. Not the average one you save for acquaintances and work, NO. The real deal, the one that crinkles at your eyes and runs deep in your veins
The kind that pulsates goodness into your lungs. That simple 21% of oxygen flooding kindness and then you breath out 16 % oxygenated, Passionate, UNBREAKABLE LOVE