My love isn’t lazy… it’s over worked. Force pushed from over-achievement to a cautious state of over analysis.

Baby you’re not hard to please, you’re simply hard to free. Your smile is a wand spouting magic across my soul, and your laughter is etched into my memory like a voice recorded note, but something still plagues my senses… something is wrong.

Perhaps no so much wrong as off. Your face is lit, but your eyes are smoldering wicks.  The culprit is either light or shadow, but I know this is some sort of trick. Deep in you is a yearning to sail away into freedom, but there’s an art to being a freed person and there are pieces of you that don’t fully believe you could be one.

Don’t ask me how I know this… I just do.  The shiny tracks running down your face and into oblivion as they drip off your chin are occasional clues. The way your pupils drift towards the sky, instinctively sympathizing with nature’s blues…

These are all tells.

But… you are my queen trapped in the castle. My princess secluded in the uppermost room. I will cross waters uncharted, travail the sands of time, and fight to break shackles with every breath in me. I will be your shining knight in suitable armor, looking sharper than a razor edged black marker. Trust me no one will go harder, when I reach limits I go farther…

You are the blazing heart that makes life brighter.


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