You are my love

Ravaged beauty, torn loveliness, ruined innocence; that is what you are to me. You cross the room, bare feet testing the cold floor; delicate toes followed by perfect ball and soft, rounded heel. I am absorbed by the way you move, slowly and with all the concentration others would reserve for a much greater task. There is nothing in the room but you, no movement in my world that you are not the centre of, you are the cause of the wind and the maker of waves upon the ocean. My world spins around your axis.

I came to rescue you, to mend the hurt you bare with dignity like a scar caused by a wild beast. I came to assure you that higher moments await you, that man can be good and kind and all the things he has never been to you. I came to keep you warm but it is your smile which warms me now. A smile which offers all the reassurance I cannot manage to voice, which says you know me better than I know myself.

You are patient in the face of everything, speaking with husky certainty and loving humour. You, who I expected nothing from, have proved to be far more than the sum of your experiences, far more than your life written on paper would spell you out to be. I speak to give you peace and it is you who finishes the sentence, you who makes the feeling real with tender touch and soft, blushing kiss.

You cry in solitude unwilling to expose your fragility and without need for comfort, pain not easily borne is borne with quiet strength and determined passion. Even your moments of weakness, regretted by you, to me are windows into your person. When you weave the story of your life I listen enthralled, your words are like music and your emotions like a melody running through our lives together, accompanying our dance.

Always accepting you do not push me nor mould me into a shape that would suit you better, I am not equal to you and your respect and support humbles me. You accept my flaws without question while you rally against your own which to me are but blemishes on the velvet skin of a peach. No slight, unperceivable imperfection could touch its sweetness nor make you less in my eyes. You are precious, you are wonderful. You are my love.