Your eyes, your face, your fingertips. They were all my favourites. Your lies, your gaze, your perfect lips. I love thee too. And those words, you would mumble in my ears. They make me shiver with delight.
I like to trace along the raised scars on your back. Where your wings were brutally ripped. They felt rough and ugly. But no you're not.
Was it painful? Was it not? When you fell from above In that one place called paradise.
Because I know it does. When I did fall, No not from Heaven love it's Inferno and Hell.