My fairytale exists with you and only you, it starts with you and ends with you. I told them about you, it was obvious, lovers can’t hide, only seek what is seeking them. They where jealous in their eyes, I told them about you and they inhaled your fragrance that I wear. Some like it, some cant take it. You’re fragrance of the aramis. A memory that thrills me but cannot be described only the aroma leaves a mystery in the atmosphere.
Your love is not a map you are the map hard to find and hard to navigate. Your map teaches me that your direction is the only way. So what is the correct route to you I ask myself. Well, I take my journey with you everyday and realise the journey to you, is not easy but your answers on my path keep me aligned with you. I don’t love you when you’re not mine, how can i while you’re loving another, how can you entertain another. You should only love one.
I hold onto the memories between the moments when I feel you near, the rose that bears thorns like me sharp, deadly, you touch me, I strike. All my roses that I hold are very significant for me, when each leaf is pulled off bearing its fragile state I cry. Why?because you are all vicious. but I know my roses. So be careful when you touch each petal of life because white death will be fall you in the prick of the thorn, you will be cut.
So, i found my husband walking alone after his limits, and while I watched him I asked myself, and took a deep breath of his emotion and zoomed in more into his walk alone I blew a bird of verses straight away; CITRUS, WOODY and AMBER. he had just stopped, I took another breath, and allowed the verses to inhale him and then I knew that he was listening and opened his heart to mine.
Blood in my eyes you can see, fire in his feet as he fuels each step, I suddenly text him in this modern world we live in, what a privilege, but we don’t utilise our resourses. What a shame. I text him, like a scroll, or a love letter in a bottle sent on the ocean.
I spoke, would you like to walk with me or would you rather walk alone? Then, he spoke, how do I tell you I love you without being shy about my words? I spoke, you say it while you’re shy and I’ll listen while my heart aches because of the sincerity of your distinct voice, i’ll pause like literally freeze, melting like ice, telling myself, move Talia Ezra Chesno, dead to my being, and you’ll probably look at me with confusion… his voice that can only impact the being of my existence.
