She was intense 
like a flame to a dry field
It spreads, it burns,
she demands your attention.

She was timeless,
like a wave crashing on the sand
fluently alive, raging furiously,
and manipulating your emotions.

That girl was beautiful,
a frequent imbalance of naughty or nice,
urging you to protect her or defend yourself,
begging you to walk then run,
– to her or away from her,
forcing you to decide.

She was magnetic,
She was gravity,
She was pressure,
She was force.

That girl is love.


kristin l. cook

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