To love a man down to his soul takes courage. To compromise, to realize; love. To look past his flaws, open wounds & fears. To kiss him gently, healing scars with each peck. To stroke his ego. To calm his nerves and be his peace. To listen, to answer, to submit. To pray for him, be his rib, his Ruth, his Queen. To nurture, to warm, to hold.
I love a man, deep into his soul. It took compromise and courage, to realize my love for him. I look pass his flaws, his open wounds and all his fears. I kiss him softly, my lips healing him with each peck. I stroke his ego and his big ego. Riding his thoughts and releasing his mind. I calm his nerves. I am his peace. I listen, then answer, then submit. I pray for him, I am his rib, he’s my Boaz, my King. I nurture him. My hold, warms him.
“If a writer falls in love with you, you will never die.” -Mik Everett