The Poet’s Muse 

They say that your first love will be the one ever so dreamy and the one you fell ever so hard for because your heart is so clean, so untainted and so untarnished. The second time you fall in love would be one so real and so unexpected in every way; perhaps completely different from the first you’ve ever fallen for simply from the way they speak, how their eyes glimmer or how their kisses softly land on your cheek. 

But no one brings out the ultimate best in me like you do. You paint colours on empty canvasses even though sometimes you don’t see the colours yourself. Your precious whispers dropped ever so gracefully into my ear like a wishing well, never to catch the light again. All of your imperfections and flaws, I embrace with every kiss I steal and every breath I inhale. 

God. Stringing words and phrases together is almost impossible when the only thing I can think of right now is the warmth and the swirls of your chestnut eyes, the tenderness of your voice. 

Continue watering the gardens that bloom from the cracks of my heart and I’ll give you a lifetime of flowers. 

Inbetween the calm and the chaos of heartbeats and blossoming melodies, you have stolen my heart and I never want it back. 

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