I want to hold her in my arms until she forgets what loneliness feels like.
I want to hold her heart like the lonely autumn trees hold the fragility of clinging leaves.
The traces of my lips on her skin reach deep inside her soul and transform an abandoned house into a loving home.
The weather hasn’t been the same ever since the sun decided to impersonate the warmth of her aura.
It doesn’t matter which book I’m reading; her body will always be the scripture that my hands believe in.
I found myself longing to love and appreciate her with the kind of passion she’s never felt before.
Loving her is like looking at a shattered mirror and clearly seeing every bit of the broken reflection.
The weather hasn’t been the same ever since the sun decided to impersonate the warmth of her aura.
It doesn’t matter which book I’ll be reading; her love will always be the scripture that my heart believes in.
I want to hold her in my arms until she remembers what happiness feels like.