You
will never be able to comprehend the hold that you have on my heart.
You
have always recognised my potential for the future, even from the very start.
You
will never be able to comprehend how strongly my heart beats for you.
You
value my intellect and it does not intimidate you.
Forget
makeup and handbags and stilettos and diamonds and gold; you are my most
valuable possession, my priceless accessory.
When
I shiver in sickness, your teardrops and the feathery touch of your masculine
fingers are my healing salve. I love you…
Our love has very little to do with late night glasses of aphrodisiacs and hard, aggressive thrusts that produce howling screams
That echo shallow climaxes, which can easily be replicated by another sex-rod; or another sex-pot;
Our love doesn't hide beneath the cloak of delicate flowers and frilly, fancy cards and crisp, polished words, which do not really say what we mean, when we mean it.
Yes, this love does continue to survive, because he values her intellect and it does not intimidate him.
Our love has very little to do with late night glasses of aphrodisiacs and hard, aggressive thrusts that produce howling screams
That echo shallow climaxes, which can easily be replicated by another sex-rod; or another sex-pot;
Once it's been coupled with high libido and more late-night glasses of intoxicating aphrodisiacs.
Our love has never been about exquisite, near-priceless gifts of diamonds, bigger gems, Range Rovers, Mansions and costly socialite dinner affairs,
Which will be forgotten at 1.00am, when they cannot heat up the icy, air-conditioned, GH₵ 2,400 ruby-red satin and silk sheets on the other side of the bed.
Which will be forgotten at 1.00am, when they cannot heat up the icy, air-conditioned, GH₵ 2,400 ruby-red satin and silk sheets on the other side of the bed.
Our love doesn't hide beneath the cloak of delicate flowers and frilly, fancy cards and crisp, polished words, which do not really say what we mean, when we mean it.
And our love doesn't know harsh, verbal weapons that stab at our hearts, that suffocate our emotional minds, that cut into wounds that have long shed their scabs;
And our love is ignorant of cold, iron fists that burn red-hot with a raging anger that is birthed by hate and definitely not love.
Our love lives in a realm, where the only two mortal spirits are you and I, just making a lengthy, treacherous and unique journey together,
And we lose our way:
We starve a little, when we're low on love-food and our throats remain parched, when the refreshing love-waters morph into heavily saline Dead-Sea-Waters.
We trip over our feet a little, when our love is gasping for air, because we're strangling it with frustration and unkindness...
But, this love does continue to survive, because she has always recognised his potential for the future, even from the very start.
And her eyes mirror his dreams, his nightmares; they pour tears for his failures and they are shiny with mist for his victories.
And our love is ignorant of cold, iron fists that burn red-hot with a raging anger that is birthed by hate and definitely not love.
Our love lives in a realm, where the only two mortal spirits are you and I, just making a lengthy, treacherous and unique journey together,
And we lose our way:
We starve a little, when we're low on love-food and our throats remain parched, when the refreshing love-waters morph into heavily saline Dead-Sea-Waters.
We trip over our feet a little, when our love is gasping for air, because we're strangling it with frustration and unkindness...
But, this love does continue to survive, because she has always recognised his potential for the future, even from the very start.
And her eyes mirror his dreams, his nightmares; they pour tears for his failures and they are shiny with mist for his victories.
And her intelligence intrigues him and the sway of her hips captivates him and he yearns for her smooth, fleshy thighs to intertwine with his taught, muscular pelvis.
And forget makeup and handbags and stilettos and diamonds and gold; he is her most valuable possession, her priceless accessory.
And when she shivers in sickness, his teardrops and the feathery touch of his masculine fingers are her healing salve, and she day-dreams of his chisel-carved chest engulfing her delicately scented lady-mounds...
This love is not a perfect love and can NEVER be... But it bears the emblem of pure, unadulterated love.
This love is not a perfect love and can NEVER be... But it bears the emblem of pure, unadulterated love.
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