Awaiting her eyes reflect mine

The wait extends to infinite horizons, her voice echoed a medley of affirming stature while I remind myself of the trenches I used to be. A stranger at a time, where she was dawn I was dusk.

She is the golden hour

The Jimny’s grey green olive bodywork reflected how the sunset speaks unleashed emotions. She’s a work of art, how shall I be composed as my heavy corse voice asserted my thoughts.

Uncertain whilst I seek to embrace the wonderful melody she is. As high as an opera pitch as soothing as midweek jazz, or is she the saxophone matching the good old wine.

Warmth of a hug with your heartbeat resounding continuous support, surpassing herself into evolving. Her eyes speak the depth of raw rich mines. Though thunderstorms to one calm turquoise lagoon… her scent is that of a girl with a heart full of aspirations, her traits symbolical to the valiant warrior she has been.

My fingers entangled in her tresses, a toddlers smile complimenting a rushing mind awaiting to pull her close enough to…..

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