As I touched the powdery texture of its skin.

 

My hands could not resist the urge to pick the thin ball point with dark black ink.

 

As my hand and the ink touch its skin it felt as if we were made for each other.

 

A marriage made in Holy Matrimony.

 

My words are the bride and this white paper was its husband.

 

My emotions would and could not stop pouring out.

 

Every word dropped on its surface was like a thick drip of blood.

 

This encountered moment was one I had never had, I wanted this moment to last.

 

This moment stayed near to my soul. 

 

I  yearned to say more.

 

My hands shook with every word written. 

 

There was an unstoppable surge of energy flowing through.

 

It was just me, my paper and pen.

 

This was a relationship that could never be broken.

 

I finally found my match.