Echoes of Forgotten Hearts: 9 Years of Poetry and Longing

Loving you is the simplest thing— like air filling my lungs, like the sun tracing its path without even asking why, I don't love you in fireworks and symphonies; I love you in quiet rhythms, in heartbeats steady as tides, in the way I know the sound of your silence. But you— you look at yourself like a puzzle missing all its pieces, like a song sung off-key. You speak of yourself with a voice full of broken glass, cutting through the softness I want to give you. It hurts, this love. Not because it's heavy, but because you can't see it— can't feel how natural it is to me, like blinking, like breathing. You tell me I'm wrong, that you're not worthy of this, but how do I explain that loving you is the one thing I've never had to think about? I wish I could loan you my eyes, just for a moment, so you'd see yourself as I do: a constellation, not a flaw. But I can't make you believe, so I'll love you anyway. I'll love you until it feels like breathing to you, too

~Dark Stranger©

Her body a canvas of desire

owned

Lust consuming her

Fire burning deep inside her

she waits

...she dares not move.

he will come soon ...

she will feel release