I wish I was more like her.

The way she searches the stars makes the fireworks seem cursed. 

I felt it since the first time, I laid eyes, I was immersed. 

Her beauty was a habit and her love was like a purge. 

She cured me from my sadness and all the sins I’d stir. 

Trust me it was rebirth, the light inside her soul had given me a burn and then there were her curves.

I never felt...

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Write me with your ink on my body,
and the calligraphy of your lips

Make my back a canvas where your heartbeat dwells, 
and let each touch awaken
the echo of the beloved

Write me without words,
without voice, let your hands be the language
and the silence our verse

Let your breath be the spark that ignites the night,
and the fire that marks my flesh,
be memory of your touch

Let ...

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