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Like a rose kissed by the morning sun, the beauty unfolds in quiet grace and each petal touched by the whisper of dawn, as if the world itself paused to admire the stillness of the opalescent moment.
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“It takes a lot to break these two.
They’re survivors.”
“I love it.” I give her a long, soft kiss.
“And I love you like all-fire.”
We kiss until I taste salt.
To my dearest fifteenth, I no longer have words to trace the way you’ve become the rhythm beneath my pulse, and I no longer try to separate you from it. I will always find you in the spaces between my thoughts, @Jeffrwey.
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