🔞 “He spoke to her
In all the ways others didn’t
Not any erstwhile suitor
He spoke to her heart
Her hidden tucked away part
In that rhythm all her own
He did this every day in every way
Found questions that opened her up
Gave her gifts nobody got
Spirited conversations
Three hour coffee stops
Admiring her age beyond years
Indulgences that made her big heart stop
Soft hands on her cheek
An insistent one in her hair made her weak
He spoke through his passions
His corruptive ideas
He made her read 
Into Him and His favorite inky sheafs
He never excluded her always included her
They spoke the same language of desire
Inspiration that lasted in silences
Eyes fixed and savouring moments
Aching heartbeats synced 
Whetting voracious curious appetites
Grand ideas and small pet caresses
And she never felt like a passive bit of furniture
Not a wallflower but a wildflower
Not tamed but inflamed
Not belittled or f**king ashamed
Furthered and endeared
Wanted and wanting for years
When the shyness fell away
He said I see right through you
Hiding in plain sight
She shrugged and said I’ve always been here
Not just waiting to be discovered in someones bed
He swatted her on the butt
And she didn’t turn tail
Because she believed Him and adored Him
Kneeled for him and found her place
So belonged to Him and said softly with whim
May I please stroke your silly stupid face” ❤️
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There’s a corner of my heart that is yours. And I don’t mean for now, or until I’ve found somebody else, I mean forever. I mean to say that whether I fall in love a thousand times over or once or never again, there’ll always be a small quiet place in my heart that belongs only to you. -Beau Taplin • T h e C o r n e r 🌹•

It’s your flaws I want to taste.
Your crooked mouth.
The way you smell after being
out all day. Your knees, so eager
to bend
to whatever song is playing in
your head.
Your chest, as it rises and falls
and rises and falls
on the carpeted ground. Your tangled hair.
Your good morning,
every morning.
I don’t want to be able to run
my fingers through you easily.
It is no fun writing about
perfections. I want to talk about you.
Flawed. Crooked.

After a while you learn 
the subtle difference between 
holding a hand and chaining a soul 
and you learn 
that love doesn’t mean leaning 
and company doesn’t always mean security. 
And you begin to learn 
that kisses aren’t contracts 
and presents aren’t promises 
and you begin to accept your defeats 
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of woman, 
not the grief of a child 
and you learn 
to build all your roads on today 
because tomorrow’s ground is 
too uncertain for plans 
and futures have a way of falling down 
in mid-flight. 
After a while you learn 
that even sunshine burns 
if you get too much 
so you plant your own garden 
and decorate your own soul 
instead of waiting for someone 
to bring you flowers. 
And you learn that you really can endure 
you really are strong 
you really do have worth 
and you learn 
and you learn 
with every goodbye, you learn…-Veronica Shoffstall, After A While 💡

“…and I hope someday you won’t tell me about heartbreaks. You won’t tell me how things fall apart. You won’t ask me for my advice because you no longer need them. Instead, you will tell me how wonderful life is. And I won’t stop you from describing how it feels to be whole again. Then how you were able to pick up and put the broken pieces back together. I will be there smiling at you every time you pause on talking and glance at me. I will be there listening. Because that was one of the best stories I would pay attention to.” 💛✨-

Side thought: No, you will never be the same as before your shattering. But like teacup stains on poetry pages…you are far more beautiful now that there is proof that you lived and loved, that you can endure. All my love ❤️

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 🔞 She whimpered oh so deliciously. It was quiet and desperately needy. Every little moan escaping her luscious lips rushed straight to my inner savage. It drove me insane. I thought I’d split her in two any second. I couldn’t help myself, I had to see if I could make her scream. And that was exactly what she had wanted all along. Her whimpers were a dare, a challenge to see how rough I could get. Her noises increased when the aches intensified. We pushed each other to breaking point. Just when I thought we couldn’t, we found another level. Both of us began to feel the strain on our bodies. My mouth was numb. Sweat poured down my face to the point where I could barely see from the stinging in my eyes. Marks appeared across her body, a trail of gripping fingers and stinging palms. We wouldn’t last much longer… When I eventually opened my eyes and rubbed the sweat from my face, and who knows what else was on it, I turned to look at her. She was a mess, covered in saliva, booze… At that very moment she looked like the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. That’s when I realized it. But that’s a story for another time… – Dirty Romantic 😈💋
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“When You Write the Story of Your Life, Don’t Let Anyone Else Hold the Pen”
To me, the quote is meaningful in several different ways. Fundamentally, it means that you have to be in control of your own life. You chart your own course & don’t stop until you reach your final destination. It means that you’re the captain of your ship and sometimes you have to steer that ship through stormy seas until you complete your journey & are in a safe harbor. Don’t let anyone else write your story. You know as a unique individual who you are and what you contribute to the world. You know that you’re an inherently decent person. You know what’s in your heart. Always make sure that the truth comes out and don’t allow other individuals with different motives and agendas of their own to misrepresent who you are or what you have done. It’s a sad fact of life that there will be occasions when people put their own spin on events and it doesn’t represent reality. That’s why you have to always speak up for yourself. If you don’t, you can’t expect anyone else to. Don’t let inaccuracies or untruths become common perception. Speak up and stand up for yourself. Don’t let them take the pen away from you. You have to wield the pen and write the chapters of your life both in terms of the actions that you take and how they are recorded in your own history. So, start your chapter and make sure your writing each word with passion. #createyourstory #huffingtonpost ✍🏼

I am not the first person you loved. You are not the first person I looked at with a mouthful of forevers. We have both known loss like the sharp edges of a knife. We have both lived with lips more scar tissue than skin. Our love came unannounced in the middle of the night. Our love came when we’d given up on asking love to come. I think that has to be part of its miracle. This is how we heal. I will kiss you like forgiveness. You will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms will bandage and we will press promises between us like flowers in a book. I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat on your skin. I will write novels to the scar of your nose. I will write a dictionary of all the words I have used trying to describe the way it feels to have finally, finally found you. And I will not be afraid of your scars. I know sometimes it’s still hard to let me see you in all your cracked perfection, but please know: whether it’s the days you burn more brilliant than the sun or the nights you collapse into my lap your body broken into a thousand questions, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I will love you when you are a still day. I will love you when you are a hurricane. —Clementine von Radics, Mouthful of Forevers 💙🌊
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“how do I tell you that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. how do I tell you I want to spend every next minute I get with you. how do I tell you that I want you forever. how do I tell you that I want to be the one you wake up too everymorning that’s holding a plate of pancakes and fruit and a cup of orange juice for you. how do I tell you that I want to kiss you and straighten your shirt collar every day as you leave for work. how do I tell you that I want to be the one that runs to the door and greets you with a hug and kiss as soon as you get back from work. how do I tell you that I want to be the one the stays up late on weekends making popcorn and watching silly movies while cuddling you to sleep. how do I tell you that I want to have the privilege of serving you homemade soup and tea in bed when you feel sick. how do I tell you that I want to be the overly blessed girl that gets to walk down the isle wearing that pretty white dress staring at you. how do I tell you that I want to be the mother to your crazy, insane, dorky children. how do I tell you that I want to be the old and grey couple that never loses love for one another. how do I tell you all of this ..maybe I just did.” 🌹