Monday, March 15, 2010

Worshiped

If I think about you, and close my eyes, I cannot help but smile. I can see you, I can hear you, and if I hold my breath just for a moment, I can feel you.

Even when you are away, your presence is always with me. You're ever in my thoughts, bringing me joy when I tend toward tears.

When I feel small and useless you hold me, turning it around. In your arms its good to be small, and I have a use, I cause that wide warm grin to slide across your beloved features.

I marvel at your easy going nature, you kind spirit, and your nearly endless patience. Knowing you is like knowing gentle joy. Being the object of your affection is to be worshiped.

And being so blessed I struggle constantly. How can I be worthy, how can I deserve such wonders as you bestow on me? Your eyes tell me the answer, they whisper it, "Love me."

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