When swirling eyes of constellations met steady eyes of soil, new growth occurred in both the stars and the flowers.
When a mouth of sun alight with laughter was caught by a mouth of deep water, a brilliant display reflected back from the lovers’ connection for all to see.
When the hands of the strong moon were wrapped in the gentle hands of vines, a foundation was built and pain of scars past were lessened.
When a northern star found shelter from its many adventures and trials, and the shelter was called towards the star, a bright new home was created for both earth and stars.
When a mind of intricacies and dancing milky ways clashed with a mine of treasures, tunnels and soft places to land. A greater understanding was reached for both.
When the universe and earth came together and their horizons finally touched. It was as if a brilliant, stunning, mysterious pair of lovers that could never be unraveled began a walk towards the edge.
If she was a universe, then he was the earth.
His eyes warm and determined like the soil. Always changing, yet at the core steady and solid, waiting and watchful.
His mouth was like water, able to burn or soothe with every word and movement. Life changing like ocean waves that wrapped around his lover and rocked them even after parting.
His hands were like vines. Whip strong, weathered and calloused from his work. Showing what built him and what he would become.
His body was a shelter from every storm known to man, calling his companion back home after every wandering adventure.
His mind was a mine, filled with untold treasures and long forgotten tales, ones he revealed slowly to those who were patient enough to listen. It was endless tunnels and resting places.
He was like the earth.
Intelligent, stunning, full of mystery and care. He walked like there was always a destination. Rooted in the ground, with eyes up towards the sky.
She was a universe unto herself.
Her eyes held constellations undiscovered in swirling, always changing, yet ever the same patterns.
Her mouth held the sun and every blessed thing that could either waken her love’s soul or turn it into shards.
Her hands were like the moon, gentle yet strong, scars and lines showing the past, present and future of her life.
Her body was a northern star on the compass of a night sky. Always guiding her lover back home again to sink into her sweet embrace.
Her mind was at once a black hole where all the worlds wisdom rested in its glory only to be seen when chosen. It was the Milky Way with dancing thoughts and intricate lines.
She was a universe unto herself.
Brilliant, stunning, full of mystery and mirth.
She walked like only she knew the answer to a secret. Floating in the air, fully grounded in reality.
Love like love is me mapping the stars across your body with my fingers and mouth. Connecting your unique scars and marks into a new pattern every night.
Love like love is me draped over your body or you draped over mine. Soft hands gliding over skin and dragging through hair to soothe away whatever came before.
Love like love is me catching your laugh in my mouth just to taste your happiness because there’s nothing more stunning than that moment of joy with you.
Love like love is my lips skating over your cheeks to whisk away your tears. Wishing I could take all your pain and carry it until you regained your strength.
Love like love is how you know the little things like how I take my coffee and how I drink my scotch. Because they fit the bigger picture of you loving me while I’m loving you.
I sat in the valley, looking out over the horizon, green grass for miles over the hills. Colorful flowers and weeds, the trees and even the animals at a distance.
And I was soothed, not just on the surface, but something in this place and moment filled me to my core. A need that always went unspoken but somehow this place knew.
I wanted to laugh from the joy it brought me, yet found myself wiping away tears instead. How long since I’d felt such peace? It was a relief for however short a time to know that it was still to be found.
I wanted to lay back and sink into its embrace, and then you called my name. My eyes searched, catching yours as you moved towards me, all shadows in the fading light.
I smiled then, my heart filling to overflowing as you reached your hands out to me and I laid my hands in yours. You tugged my body up and towards you even as I made the leap.
Our bodies moved towards each other even as our souls intertwined. And I knew then that I would forever think of you in this place that brought me such joy long after you may have gone.
An arrow is still an arrow, no matter what it’s tipped with at its start. Sugar or poison? What’s the difference…they will both kill you in the end once they find their mark, released from the bow of a skilled, yet terrible archer.
An arrow wrapped with sugar will cause an even slower death than that of its poison brother. Will still tear through your limbs and organs, rip apart your foundation until you are a bloody, sobbing mess on the floor. Harder to escape from its pain, because of the illusion of love it once gave you.
An arrow doused in poison will cause a quick death of the mind, but the heart is slower to catch up, the blood moving sluggishly through your veins even as your mind frantically tells you to react. Causing you to lay in agony, fearful of each day despite the power inside you. There is no illusion of love here, only control.
Give me neither sugar or poison from your damaged fingers and bitter mouth. Give me no illusion of love and adoration. Give me no marks or twisted deeds of your supposed control. Give me nothing of yourself, let me remain as I am. Broken but still standing. Dressed for the battle of another day, another night…
I do not long for your arrows of deceit. I long for your truth. Do you remember what that is for yourself? Give me the truest parts of your body, mind, and soul. I will bare the same to you. You needn’t rip me apart to succeed, I don’t need you to be whole again. I only need you to be capable of standing in both my light and shadows.
For you to witness what the sugar and poison tipped arrows of before have carved in me and to understand. I would be yours if you asked it. But I will always be mine. I will always know the truth even if I cannot give it voice. I will not cower from this tragic state. I will embrace the life I am meant to live.
They were like art, the way they moved together, living, breathing, glorious art that you could barely stand to witness and yet you could never tear your eyes away in their presence.
So fierce was their devotion and loyalty with their passion burning just as bright, you could be across a crowded room when they caught eyes and you felt it.
Time slowed like a thick molasses as their connection crackled and they spun a web around each other, catching those around them in it without even trying.
Bodies moving closer until it all snapped into place at the touch of their fingers, then their mouths. Damn, but were they art…in the purest form.
The kind of painting or sculpture brought to life most people see and ache at the sheer beauty of it, wish they were a part of it.
Sensual, hell downright sexual, they breathed each other’s air, bodies always touching, mouths seeking, paying no attention to those around them.
They never cared who witnessed their beauty. They weren’t putting on a show it was clear they only had eyes and thoughts for each other.
They just couldn’t help themselves, and when there’s art as beautiful as them in front of you, as bittersweet as it is at times, you simply can’t tear your eyes away from it.
Restless, I heard her call like I did every other night, unable to sleep as she cast her long, pale, silvery rays over the bed.
Her beauty quieter than the suns, but no less rare or magnificent in her own right. I lay with my hand tucked under my cheek, hair across the pillow, watching and wishing.
On clear nights I watched how she appeared to remain unchanged, yet knew she came to me as if brand new each night. On those nights I also wished for simpler times.
On the nights where the clouds tried to block her out, I watched for her to make a bold appearance. Then I wished for you to do the same. My arm stretching across the empty side of the bed and hand grasping nothing but air.
I danced my fingers over the shadows she cast, imagining it was your skin instead of the sheets. That I was able to trace every dip and curve of your body however I may have desired too.
For a brief moment that night as my fingers restlessly skittered over the bed, I looked up from the silver lines on my arms to the moon peeking through the blinds, the clouds had seemed to vanish in that moment and it was as if she promised.
That one day she’d cast her silver lines over your body beside me and grant my wish. She’d watch over me as I’d watched her through the years, tracing patterns over your skin with fingers and lips.
When the rain would start to fall I’d know she wept at the beauty she herself longed for but would never have. And that as many nights as you laid beside me she would grant me access to you with her long, pale, silvery rays.