The woman I love

Before I met her, partners were sparring, friction, sparks flying. She walked into my life and somehow it became a glide. Her hands just felt right, you know? That feeling of just being, of existing in the world with someone who is the right vibe for you. That is her, my love. Beheld by my eyes her smile and laugh take on feeling of nectar, shelter from the storm. To know her I know love.

Its crazy how over six years on we still have this groove. In the quiet moments her knocks on the table, spoken aloud words when reading, and goofiness bring a smile, it’s the small things that just make the flow work. As we spoon talking about this and that home becomes a thing, where the heart is. Her lyrical style thrums with mine, gelling adventures woven from moment to moment. Her love, her heart, betwixt my soul.

No pedestal rises beneath her feet, for grounded we stride across continents. Inspiring tastes and worldly flavours leaven our shared plate, the breadbasket of civilization run riot over my tongue. Intoxicating, this thing called love, drunk I remain hopefully till five score and ten, twenty; for in her rocking chairs were made in pairs for porches distant off. The woman cradled in my lap, sat at her desk, shing through an app, that is love, to me.

Cherished is where I am, her arms literal and figurative lifting me to be the better version of myself. No 14th of the second month is ever enough just to send her silly nothing, though cats will always be appreciated. Red hearts beat swift and slow, hers a tattoo of life well lived, felt in the small hours curled up beneath duvet and moon light. If I want for anything it is to simply be with her, to exist in her orbit, be the satellite beaming with pride the news of her success. Love, a many splendid thing.

A very many thing with her, the sisterhood forged in hours of frankness and care, of knowing that her soul is as precious as air, more than any gold or diamonds. Her mind wanders paths untrod, seeking knowledge and connections. Hers in the world at our feet, our world shaped by this love we crafted together. Lovers, sisters, companions, more. This woman I love, cherish, and adore.

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Writer, researcher, and generally curious

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Rejserin

Rejserin

Writer, researcher, and generally curious

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