She was a revalation.
She came to me as such.
With gentle gaze my eyes could not reckon, not even with mountainous effort.
She covered my sight like a rolling mist, she was absolute, her sweetness shook me.
I wanted this woman and I would have this woman, like long drinks of cold water when only water would do.
My thoughts wrapped around her and we became fused and she devoured me.
I loved her like light, life and upliftment, she could not commit, something had been spoiled and she saw that something in me.
Long hours I reasoned, neither day nor night brought forth resolution.
Had guilty pleasure given way to simple pleasure?
I want to need her, I need to want her. It’s what I’m here for or why am I here?
How could I unlock her sacred heart and move in?
The secret would remain so and I would remain only half known.
My flower was still my flower and her stains she will not allow to be washed away.
My eyes cannot see but her glory as she puts her hands up to cover them.
My mouth speaks of my love for her as she silences me with a kiss.
Her hurt I can now feel and I let her be, I let her go.
When will she let her hurt go and let herself live?
this piece came to me as a friend and I were talking about past relationships. We came to the conclusion that most of the women we had known and loved had been abused. Either sexually or what have you. They often don’t feel like they should be loved or could be loved. I want all of them to know that you can be loved and will be loved if you let that happen.