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I Do - The Birth


icedoutflossyj

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Baby, I love the way our inner minds intertwine

Like the ivy vines that drip lust-laden wine down the sides of Love's temple

Where our thoughts become engaged

With a princess-cut canary diamond metaphor

Binding our minds together.

Your tongue is a ball-point pen and I am a blank page

And I want you to write all over me.

Scribble above me, below me, love me, draw in the margins -

Do you take this diary to be your spiritually wedded emotional supporter

Throughout this neverending circle we call eternity?

I do.

 

Yes, I do love, always have loved, and I always will love the way I can hear the unspoken thoughts that haven't left your lips yet.

I know what you're thinking because you think of me when I think of you and thinking of you is all

I do.

 

I know it's love because as soon as we hang up the phone a part of me dies inside and I hope you'll call me back on the off-chance that you forgot something to say because I know that's another three-hour long conversation.

When we're apart, I can't stop this twitchin'

You are my rock - I am addicted.

When I look into your eyes I don't even see your eyes; I see my eye's reflection

Because we're both doing the same thing -

Connecting.

Whenever we step in a separate direction we always end up at the same place - each other.

The temperature of our love rises in radial degrees until it reaches heat's circumference

Culminating in an explosion of mental ecstasy.

I do.

 

I do wear those rose-colored, diamond-studded glasses meaning

That I view you without flaws.

The laws of physics cannot deny our physical dictions

Eight-lettered mandates comprising of more emotion

Than grains of salt that reside in the ocean

Only to surround your body and soul, lifting you

Up.

The three syllables that fall from the sky

Brighter than meteorites that fly by Venus

A meaningful message sent by Aphrodite directly into your spine.

Allowing Kundalini's warmth to open your mind

Relaxing the spirit, delivering an ethereal massage.

 

Baby, allow me to astral project into your third eye

Only to blind you with the raw, unadulterated, shining emotion I have that

Glistens, listen

Not with your ears, but listen with the belief that you can fall backwards

On a mattress made of the fibers of my heart

And roll over on a pillow woven with the notes of singing doves

And have your insecurites evaporate as you pull a blanket of unrequited love

Up and over your body.

 

A body that is nothing but a mere vessel through which an angel

Lives and dies to synchronize the rhythmic beating of our hearts

Beating of our hearts

 

Beating of our hearts.

 

The only metronome that matters.

The only sound I've ever heard

The only thing I've ever understood

The only metronome that matters.

 

The beating of our hearts.

 

 

 

 

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