in-love

Dear Dick, I'm not sure I still want to fuck you. At least, not in the same way. Sylvère keeps talking about us disturbing your "fragility", but I'm not sure that I agree. There's nothing so remarkable in one more woman adoring you. It's a "problem" you're confronting all the time. I'm just a particularly annoying one, one who refuses to behave... And yet I feel this tenderness towards you, after all we've been through.

Most people who are would each not be in love with their partner, if they did not have the kind of genitals they have.

Take me when I'm wild.Take me when I'm free.Take me for meand I will take you as you want to be.

What happens when I love, you ask, does the world start making sense? No, my dear, it does not. But it won__ matter to you then.

I don__ know why we fight.It takes much too effort to stay mad at you.To dodge your skin in the hallwayand leave the kitchen without bringing you a treat.It takes much too effort to stare at the sinkso my eyes don__ smile at you in the mirror.It takes much too effort to look away as we undressand lie apart in the now bigger bed.It takes much too effort to stiffen my bodybecause sleepy limbs forget fightsand pride is always lost in dreams.It takes much too effort to awaken every hour to make sure we are islands with a gulf of white sheets separating us.I dread the light peeking through the parted curtainsand empathise with your groans __ didn__ get any sleep either.I really don__ know why we fight.It takes much too effort to stay mad at one anotherwhen it__ so easy for us to love.

Share yourself with me. I will never judge you. I am here and I will stay here only to love you.

I was mistaken when I said you live in my heart. How absurd I was when you live in my fingertips so that everything I touch is you. How foolish I was when you live in my toes so that everywhere I go there's you. How senseless of me to say you live in my heart when you breathe in my lungs, walk on my mind, and drink in my mouth. I came to pen another poem for you, but even every unwritten poem is you.

Being deeply, passionately, and intensely in love is being deeply, passionately, and intensely in life.

You are my favourite part of life.

How is it possible, you ask, for love to be greater than the person who does the loving? That__ because love defies the rules of reason. It is the only exception.

I__ a winner because I always bet on you.

Love isn__ blind. Maybe we are all born blind and love finally gives us sight.

The only thing that comes close to defining me correctly is my love.

To be fearlessly vulnerable with someone_One of the deepest, most desirable paradoxes of love.

Be like the sun who fell in love with the moon and shared all his light.

I fell in loveand then I became love.

Like a child who saves their favourite food on the plate for last, I try to save all thoughts of you for the end of the day so I can dream with the taste of you on my tongue.

Like freshly cut roses, I place life in a vase... of love.