Philisophical Musings

of an agnostic polyamorous heterosexual artistic soul

Words to a Woman

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If you never hear it from anyone else, then you heard it from me.

You are a flower, a gift, sweet as the spring breeze. You are as fresh as a summer sun shower. You are beautiful, inside and out. In a world where none is perfect, you come the closest yet.

My pen wants to continue writing, but what is the point? It will all be more of the same. You get the point. I could fill a book with the things that come to mind when I think of you.


Written by Philoman

December 3, 2010 at 2:32 pm

Posted in Just words, Love

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