My Love's Love Languages
The love language of my deeply beloved love and companion,
whom I miss when we're apart,
me waiting like a dog at the window;
my partner, my life, my rock when all times get rough, my tool girl, behind which, lies the mysterious power;
that dog again breathing deeply the odors of hope through that window with barely a smudge.
The idea, the research, the recommendation, the implementation,
like it or not, are working. The right tool for the right job.
Her Voice carries: through a towel drying there, through her table where she sets our plates, plates hungrily waiting, though you'd never know it.
Her complex thoughts are transformed, compounded within elixirs of fragrant love and craving with tender needs for validation and praise for love well-done in crispy-sweet light brown bacon just how you'll like it.
Her Voice whispering softly through my ears, her toes touching me for warmth.
Her hands then combing gently through my hair and softly and firmly massaging into me her gazes and whispers of love.
Her willing warm give at my touch, says, "Come with me to a world of Oneness."
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