I never knew someone could make your insides something meaningful.
Making your heart gold and your soul rise.
You touched me yesterday with such care.
You picked at my words like they were apples on a tree.
You told me my voice was frantic.
The sky was a gloomy gray.
The winds were slightly rough.
I felt droplets.
But way softer than your voice.
These droplets were raw like our love.
I felt it upon my fair skin.
I know it's real.
These are the tears from the gods and goddesses above telling me it's okay to cry for love.
You are a delicate droplet.
I need you here how the beach needs an ocean.
I need you here like how humans need oxygen to breathe.
I wanna feel his hands upon my skin.
You're the reason why rain follows after you.
When you speak to me I become your addict and your delicate notes are my drug and I have become sunk into the quagmire of your words.
His words are a seductress removing my armor and exposing my innards to him as I wait to either be crucified by his wrath or induced with his presence.
Before I was hallow and broken. Shattered pieces of a reflection and much like a master puzzle solver he put them back together again. He is my muse, my angel, and my punishment for my sin's of loving, his touch be my guide and his anger my whip.
But he is still a delicate rain drop to my skin.
