The source of enchantment and awe in my world is the garden of delight and comfort planted in your soul. I inhale the love from your roses careful not to draw blood from a thorn, although for you I would give every last drop. Your silhouette consumes my vision, and the off-pitch tunes with which you serenade me take precedence over any musical masterpiece. Given the option to culture myself in the crevices of the world alone or to sit peacefully and joyfully in your embrace, I choose the latter.
To hell with society forcing the green paper to consume all life! Let us forget the pretty buildings and contaminated air. I want to breathe in every syllable of your story. Bathe for hours in your melted heart. Our music is the stream and our blankets are each other. We can build a shelter out of fallen trees while our kisses protect us from the rumbling deep inside the collapsing world.
Joy! Pure joy is at my fingertips dripping from my hands to my heart when I am in the presence of such brilliance. You could make an iron lip smile. If only the king and queen could let go of their utopian princess and see through human eyes the exuberant and innocent love that has overcome their daughter. Maybe then, their headquarters would be filled relief instead of fatigue and depression. However, their kingdom is ruled north of Hollywood and we are seeds planted in hospitality.
Good night, my love. I will rest my eyes and refer to you often in my conversations with He Who Knows All Things Love. May we remain blessed in His name.