The Love Story

If only time was written from the words she spoke to him. Forever, my love. Now. Always. If only their story were painted from his lips as it danced across hers. Born from the fire she felt as he wrapped her in his arms, enlivened by the feelings he gave her when he told her he loved her. If only her smile could transcend her into his embrace, creating tendrils of passion when she heard his voice, entrancing her into his spell. Come, my love. Mine. Mine forever. She couldn’t help it; the heart is greedy when it finds love, swallowing it whole until it wants for none, and gives it back to the ones it chooses. He was the ocean of passion that her heart consumed, and she was its prisoner, wading in the shallows and floating further out to sea. Drowning, sinking. Deeper into nirvana, her heaven, his angel. If only her love for him were words, so that he could hear her drowning. Hear her heart kissing the wake of the sea, praising his existence. If only he knew of his enchantment, every wave pulling her back into ardor. If only he knows she is asleep in his paradise, he will never wake her up.

 

 

*dedicated to the love of my life, I love you, babe*

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