Rose Petals

I am happy.

Those words are underestimated, heard but unseen

a warm breeze that slides along the cheek of another.

You make me happy.

 I feel as though you cause my bloodstream

to regulate gallons upon gallons

of liquid rose petals

that pump warmth and light and hope into my heart

creating a being,

creating me.

I am beautiful, as well as strong

And you are my ambrosia.

Your voice

is something of sacred quality.

You have the ability to sound

as though you dipped your honey-coated words

Into a bubbly champagne

that disintegrates

 the tar

of my charred childhood.

Your heart

is a beating dollop of gold

Always changing, always growing, always sculpting

itself

To mimic the spirit that it so beautifully belongs to.

I only wish to caress your love

To protect it in my arms

and to never let it go

For should I lose

the grace that is your heart

I will fall,

And I will crumble

Just as marble

Under the sculptor.

But I am happy, and I am warm

knowing that I could hold you

for a thousand years

and never notice that a second had passed

Because your radiance

And your shine

Would engulf my every sense

And take my breath away.

I am happy, and you are the reason why