Week 11

No one can touch me like he does.

It’s not even, only because

Of the massive amount of love,

Which fills my tub,

Oh how I love to rub,

& Swallow the full amount of.

Nuts about his presence,

Blessed and so unexpected,

As we move slowly unprotected.

Our bodies intertwine under the Moon,

Celebrating the lives we created in late spring;

At the beginning of June.

He always whispers my favorite tune,

Standing in awe in front of the mirror as our flowers bloom,

Hoping one day I’ll be his Wife,

I’ve already seen him as my Groom,

We just have to rise to every occasion,

Stand firm under towers and recover from doom.

So excited we are one,

Anxious for all of the abundance that has yet to come,

Envious souls I’m sure they want some,

Cannot deny our connection,

It’s been apparent that I was the one.

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