You'll love her with all your skin, tongue and lungs.
The way that the air is just so much more crisp whenever she's in proximity to your hands.
It turns the scattered dust in the atmosphere into magnifying glasses
Aimed directly at her
Spotlighting everything you wish you could put into words but can't
Because she's just too ******* unbelievable
That even if you tried, you would offend yourself and the gods with how little it compares to
The love she makes you feel in reality.

You would do everything for her.
Hold her until your bones start to crack
So that she'll understand just what you mean
When you tell her that you'll never let her go.
But she still doesn't get it.
She'll never understand that when you tell her that you want nothing more
Than to let your dust be her dust, her words to be in your cheeks
Her nose to be your daughters nose
You mean that you want nothing more than to keep her forever.

But you never will.
Because you never stood a chance.
You thought that by giving your whole self over to her she would offer you the same respect.
That's not how this world works.
It never was.
These valiant efforts of yours are now dubbed selfish and inconsiderate by others
For not taking her feelings into account.
Because she doesn't know what true love is.
She never felt the need to have you near.
For her daughters smile to be your smile.
For your hands to cradle her head when she's sad.
To let you talk for hours without listening to a single ******* word you're saying,
Because she's lost in the sound of your voice.

Because she doesn't know how to accept anything she isn't willing to give.

She’s here with me, as though she’d always be,
the night before her life goes on.
Just a few more moments here with me,
It’s four a.m., and soon it'll be dawn.
Tomorrow she’ll be gone again,
off to valleys and professors,
leaving me to take the strain,
and work of “Hi, how are you?” chores.
Beneath her hair, in my shirt fold,
there’s a gold bra clasp reflecting moonlight.
Somewhere between cotton and gold,
we’re in my bed, one more last night.
          Now every second I am nearer
          to being a boy in her rear mirror.

You were given the godly power of man,
to make and mold young cherubim.
You were graced to ease them from a nest
and dole out their pairs of wings.

But you stole years and loves
and freedoms and prides.
You made their roses sick.

You knocked your angels out of the sky.
You made it too cold for them to fly.

As a fallen angel,
from down under the upper hand,
I hope that you make it.