In honor of Valentine’s Day.

when is a party not a party?

to love . . .

When nature succumbs to resistance, the windblown flower bows in veneration, drifts to the lowlands of nod and leaves flesh behind.  I slip a quilt up to her chin, kissing her forehead that radiates as Siddhartha’s “glow of pure spirit.”  Resting beside and then with her ebb and flow of breath, I soon follow.

Letters in words need spaces.  Words in sentences need spaces.  Sentences in paragraphs need spaces.  The language of love and dreams follow.

Strengthening each one’s governing values, without objection, the two enhance and defend their qualities within each space and within all time together.

Spontaneity, void of time management, mellows the buds.

Sometimes tagging along on outings typically not appealing to one, earnestly exploring the other’s passions and sources of goodness, value is doubly reaped.

Listening as much as talking, one dances in a commingling with the other’s worldview.

Inciting laughter feels astonishingly fine, but freeing the other’s spirit in the process feels even grander.

Open to intimacy, gifted…

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