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He looked straight through me with those devilish green eyes, the very first time that he ever spoke to me.

His long pausal moments told me that "If you're going to pursue me, you better do so with such tenacity that you give it a new meaning, girl."

And, I did just that because I've never known love to be subtle & delicate in nature, by default.

Somehow, I missed that boat throughout life.

Love, to me... is passionate, consistent, unwavering, intense & volcanic. It is built upon a foundation of absolute trust & loyalty.

It simmers upon a raging fire below the surface, until it's borderline explosive, and violently imflammable, by default.

He liked it better when I chased him, because he knew that what we were doing, was somewhat dangerous.

I made him feel alive, when he was dying deep down.

He made me feel, something, other than the apathy that swirled in the depths of me, between then & now, and 9 to 5.

I was never seeking safety & protection, just a soft place to fall when life fucked me brutally on the side, and I needed someone to hold me when I felt like crying.

He liked small talk, as he felt as if he was getting to know me from a subtle context.

I like anything but as I had no intentions at that point in time to play the dumb wife of any man that couldn't lay straight in bed, let alone within his own head.

I’m more than content doing my own thing but I couldn’t refuse his touch, when he sought me to liberate him from his daily pressures.

It's lonely sometimes, but I'm not afraid of being alone with myself, or my neverending thoughts.

Show me the depth of a man's heart by the way he touches me, and I'm there with bells on chiming into his inner dialogue whilst trying to win his affections on the sideline.

Say it with your fingertips trailing up and down my flesh to show me anything but an untruth that you keep from spilling out of those lips.

That, is the language of love when you can't discern the truth of words in a corrupt world.

Touch my flesh as if reading the sacred transcripts of my heart & soul, and then transcribe them to enable me to identify my own.

I'll understand and comprehend all the spaces in between those moments, and translate exactly what they mean for they tell me what I mean, to him.

I'm too disillusioned with anything else, but touch at the moment.

He reveled in knowing that he benefited in immeasurable ways that made him blush when he'd entertain himself with me, even as an afterthought.

I'm in love with the spaces that unfold between that window just on dawn, and again, just before dusk trails the crossover upon a cobalt skyline.

The stillness during those moments, keep me tethered to the promise of a new day, tommorow.