How gently the rains of your face fall upon me. How sweet the dew of each kiss. How nourishing your body. Your chest and torso, broken bread. Your scent coils and creeps from you and I, buried in your crevices, drink it in. The intimacy of kissing your curls and the delicacy of meeting your lips. They all fill me. Sustain me.
This little heart of mine often you nourished it and cherished it gladly as if it was a sweet smile among a million primulas!
Oh, this little heart of mine how often should it be scrutinised be squeezed into the flip side? What magic, should it show up? Though no longer one sheds a tear but spares a dose of love.
The sweetest moments in life only come from love. The harrowing ones are no strangers—too big and bold and could flesh out with no bound. But fill this with only a slice— not the lot—just with a bit of love, this little heart of mine!