"You remind me of old library books on freshly painted bookshelves. With your floral dresses and your non-committal shrugs about being called ‘beautiful’. Your palms sweat profusely while we watched horror movies in that old cinema, but I keep it entwined to mine, safe. There is a sanctuary breathing in your whiskey-colored eyes. Like the warmth of the afternoon sun setting to the west bend of sunflower fields. I could cocoon myself in those familiar honey-vanilla skin of yours, like my own nest of peace and serenity. You gravitate me into your own version of the world. With the laughter you let out, with the wisdom the springs off your lips, with the sadness you try so hard to conceal but only adds to your mystery, with your lovely lovely mouth you have and such words spurn out of it, with your beauty that seem boundless to explore. I am spinning, in a wheel of the world. And you are the compass that navigates me. The ground that settles my feet. The air that purges my lungs. The sole reason why I am indefinite, because you hold what completes me. You carry my bones, like your own burden to the world, along with all my woes and sins, and stitch them with your own design. Smiling at me, while you wear my ring and favorite t-shirt. You are Sun incarnate, and I, a stubborn willow tree aching to reach your glow and be forever in your warmth. Naked, you are beauty that transcends oceans to bend. The contented sigh I let out, knowing I am indeed fortunate to languish each part of you. My muse, my wondrous delusion and my answered prayer. You are my most delighful if not, infinite adventure. To love you, is but a nature true to my very marrows."
Sheriza - Delilah and her missing scissors. (via retinas)
(Source: mystrangesilhouettes, via retinas)