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After reading French love letters from a different century, it creates a feeling that they are from you to me. Je tadore. Tu me fascines. Je’ taime. 

Gazing eyes that stare into mine, I feel them dissecting and I divert my attention to a blank wall, the connection too surreal, kindred, you are to me.  No greater bond will be formed than this one, deep rooted standing before.

A blank canvas with some captivating strokes, embark upon it, fill it up and mold me into your own. Open me up and allow it be sowed. Took off our cool, now I see you in me and myself in you. Only tip toed on love, never really felt the wholeness, but you have immersed and blessed me.

You are beautiful to me, the way you speak, the connections of how you think.

My God, I uphold your essence as if it was bore upon me, my gawd.

Tempête Faire la Coquette

Day breaks and the essence of love flows through. The fire that is made starts the day and fills the room. Acting like adults checking emails and paying bills, yet and still mindlessly finding ways for smiles to grace our faces. Tickle mania and makeout sessions while not focusing on comedy specials and romance movies, again allowing loves essence to get us full. Something to cool off, favorite Ben & Jerry’s beckoning our call. Do you hear that? Thunder, baby! Run out in sweats and flops for the sky to greet one another, still with pints of ice cream in our hands. The sky claps louder and our anxiety builds faster for the storm bound to come. Harder and harder the wetness beats down upon us dancing and laughing in the middle of the street, holding hands we’re moving to our own beat. Smile baby, the sky is lighting up, look at it taking pictures of us. The sky’s music grows louder as if it was right in our ear. Racing in doors we peel off our clothes and let the warmth of this water trickle between our bodies. Steaming up soul meeting soul, my body becoming one with yours, this is just another Friday, still anticipating to spend many more.

Boys Smoys