Don't forget the goal.
True love is powerful and not to be taken lightly.
It's hard to reveal your all to a complete stranger without assurance.
To be fully accepted, to hold to have in complete comfort.
Don't let go of the way your heart beats.
Let it flourish, grow from the stem and fill the petals with something wholesome.
Dreams are built within dreams.
The thought that leads to action.
Take the reigns.
The stem only knows to grow.
Provided with enough sun.
Enough water.
Dispite whatever obstacle.
It grows over, it grows through even under.
It takes form and even grows with a bend.
Nevertheless.
It grows.
Covered in sheets spread and enveloped in the bud of petals.
In arms reach of each other.
Through sickness and in health,
In perfect communication.
Through dirt, through the mud
Not only in bad weather but the days where the sun shines its brightest.
With thorns to protect,
It feeds the nature of balance which stimulates more growth.
Never forget the goal

Her leg was my favorite tree to lean against.
Most times I'd lean my back there and listen to her for hours.
I'd stare at the pattern of clouds that hovered above my head.
The wind sweeping beneath her dress in  perfect amount of shade.
The rustle of fabric against skin.
Here I felt I could be myself. 
I found peace in an abundance of silence.
Turned the opposite way, her roots.
I rested my head against redwood skin.
Free to be myself.
She was my sanctuary.
Standing still in her strength. I became a part of her,
Sitting still.
listening to her intently, the debris left behind from most storms.
I'd take my time, to help fix the broken branches.
Keeping weeds as far from her as I could.
Learning to compromise in a moment of trust, leaning my head against her lower leg once more.
The shade she provided in her selflessness.
The rustle of my hand against her leaves.
Letting parts of her former self go to grow anew.
My head nestled soft against skin.
I watered her every chance that I could,
Watching the same water sprinkle down on me like rain.
I rested my head against her lower leg for a moment longer.
Learning to be still in the moments that pass like clouds

Most people avoid her because of her heart.
One minute she is caring, the next she is overbearing.
The next she pours her heart the next she takes it all back and remains silent.
Too many mood swings, too many off brand medicines.
This was the reason that most people would avoid her.
Catching an aliment of her own,
The amount of hurt that she keep to herself without knowing how to release.
Finding various labels to print on her forehead.
Printing sticker on-top of sticker.
Marking her down for quick sale.
Some stickers faded. Others stuck from a different sales reel.
Manifests long forgot about.
Pushed back farther and further back on the shelf.
Negligence from those whom always marked that she was there without actually pulling her forward.
To ensure that she was alright, to knock the dust from her bottle.
To encourage her to move her to the front of the shelf.
She preferred to be alone for this same reason.
Most notably hid in the dark far from the edge of the shelf.
Out of sight out of mind, Content in her own little word.
Where no-one could poke or pry, to make her feel uncomfortable about being herself.
Her lid air tight when in reality all she wanted was to give herself.
Finding a fear of searching hands whom picked over and put others before her.
She'd sit at the back of the shelf where she was perfectly content until the day she could give all of herself.
Not realizing that she pushed those away that truly cared about her in the process.
The only prescription that could heal the sick and remove the ache of weary bones.
A weary heart, more than a handful of reckless thoughts.
She was a beautiful soul in a pharmacy full of sick physicians

Building a relationship takes time.
A slow becoming of each other's identity.
A steady student in a firm desk where attendance is vital and homework isn't necessarily done with pen and paper.
To willingly give until nothing is left, to get on each other's nerves and have the courage to look each other in the eye and admit that your wrong, to say I love you deeper. Finding compromise in the smaller things.
Discovering new meaning rather than dismissing yourself every chance granted.
The building blocks to a firm foundation.
To create a support system that relies solely on devotion.
The care of another through sickness and in health.
To humble yourself in another, to find wisdom in sharing yourself.
Falling inside and out of problems without knowing the combination to every lock.
Each locker holding something different.
The impact found in arms reach of each other.
Where communication is vocalized in a different tone.
Every moment is precious, allowing yourself to be yourself with another.
A student whose back pack otherwise empty, now filled with knowledge.
Finally finding to solve for X when different variables are thrown in parenthesis.
The Y no longer important, finding a deeper meaning.
The things otherwise they never teach you at school.
Finding a love that never takes constant glances at the clock

You are one of natures most beautiful flowers.
Still growing bit by bit, watered from the roots to blossom into one of the most beautiful smiles.
Spread to receive each and every blessing that comes your way.
Embrace every inch of sun that lights the way.
Let today be one of the most beautiful days that you've had in a while.
Don't be confined by the ceramic ***.
Spread your petals in every direction that you can

To hold and acknowledge the representation of all things pure.
The gift of a black woman.
In picture perfect representation.
To hold the world in the palm of her hand. Your hand.
To birth all things beautiful.
You are the beholders of the universe.
With the patience and the endurance to witness the woes of stress.
To keep it all in stride.
You yourself are a living testament.
From the womb of resilience comes man.
With a duty to provide
To worship and protect the gift of our Queens.
A crown of wool radiating warmth.
The worry of pacing feet, cooled by the lapel of warm embrace.
From her mouth comes the food that nourishes the soul.
Around her tongue swirls knowledge of the universe.
The way her eyes connect with the stars.
Interwoven clouds that form the cuff of her crown, your crown.
With hair spread beneath her neck.
Flawless skin made of silk and honey.
With ripples of brown sugar, the moon, stars and cocoa.
Beneath her lashes lies the imagery of what she dreams most.
Her hands like the *** that brews the stew that warms the soul.
So much strength can be found. The way she holds her wrists steady.
To tame the cosmos that align against the beads of her bracelet.
Her talent , her embrace.
The way she gives herself as the wind.
Looming a sigh of relief.
Through you all life is formed.
Without her, Without you,
We'd all surely die.
Not knowing which way to go, baptized again by the palm of your hand.
This is a simple reminder to remind you that nothing could surpass you.
Beautiful black woman

Through perfect imperfections
Are we able to find evolution.
The flaws we face on a everyday basis
Seen through our own eyes as love.
A ballast on which we see each other.
Without fear, without hesitation.
I see you, not just what you display
But the eternal way that you see yourself.
Finding my reflection through yours.
Ingesting you with each and every stare.
Born again in perspective.
Yours and yours alone.
Open hearted in an open end expression through perfect imperfection.
Only then can both of our worlds change.
Only then can we truly find ourselves.
The reflection of each others eyes

I was a shirt filed with straw and rags.
Pants that hang loose. Jeans cuffed pinned uncomfortably.
Nothing to think of; a hat filled with straw.
The inability to walk. Pinned to a board.
Hickory oak.
Chest disproportionate to a small waist.
Sleeves flung in the wind.
Left standing still; a face motionless.
Pinned to hickory oak.
A shadow left in an empty field, the boundaries of a checkerboard shirt.
The insecurity of straw hands.
Pickett fences to the feet of crows,
Still she'd visit often.
Distance cut short by dark heavy wings.
She'd caw in my silence,
Not knowing the ability to smile I stood against purpose.
She refused to run, poking fun at my hat.
The clothes that hung loosely in the wind, scurf tied tightly around my neck.
Feeling her ***** the strings of my chest.
Strands of straw filled by her need to find a home.
Was there anything there at all before that moment.
Becoming shelter to the way she pried.

Although tomorrow isn't promised.
Today was once tomorrow;
Becoming yesterday.
A depth often taken for granted.
Consider waking up one of the most beautiful of arrangements.
Perfectly gift wrapped and opened each time we blink.
Eyes coming to full bloom in the promise to make today better than it was yesterday.
Every breath a fragrance of its own as we journey through the garden of life as elegance is elegance,
Sometimes we ***** ourselves in anticipation. The constitution of thorns protecting something pure.
Perfectly unraveled as the day grows on.
For we all toil for the fruit of harvest, sometimes forgetting how precious the fruit really is

In her heart just beneath her skin lays a tin pitcher.
The spout along with it's sides covered with frost from the coldest of water.
Parched lips long for a drink.
But without cup or glass.

I implore that I have swallowed fear of the utmost; Diving in head first.

A slow sip that eases the insecurity of rejection.

Another sip that interjects that you could be everything that I need.

One more to ensure that  I would gladly drown to be loved by you