the women I love…

There’s something about the women I fall in love with or at least, I admire from afar.

To the ends of their heels, they are perfect.

There’s so much about them.

I meet them in the oddest of situations and their laughter echoes in my blood streams. Their mouths are usually filled with the sweetest and kindest words and a complete dentition or at least, I think.

I could stare at them for as long as the earth wishes to remain in war and I would love to be the kindest soul they have ever met.

There’s more than a million things I could fall in love with all over again. Maybe the way they walk on the earth as though it’s fragile. Maybe the way they pair their clothes and then, other people begin to fall in love with them but fortunately for me, I was there first.

They come in different colors of world, light skinned, black, caramel and as you want to name it.

It is bliss to hold them by their waists as much as it tastes like sunshine to lock my lips with theirs. I lost count at the number of women I have fallen in love with when I was eighteen.

The thought of the love I have once had for them, makes me love them all over again. Or it may be that I have seen no woman that checks all the boxes at this time of my life.

These women have made love easier and they have made me find peace in their arms. And to the ones I simply admire from afar, barely at the sight of them keeps me in thoughts that soothes my soul.

The have the bodies that reminds me how much beauty one can have.

I love all the women I have fallen in love with. They have the most beautiful set of fingers and they smile like they know it may lift from whatever sorrow I must have been feeling.

They have the backs that I’ll love to arc and the soft hands that put me on the ninety ninth cloud with just one touch.

I find peace in holding their hands and they are kind to a fault for me. I want to write as deep as the ocean is, about the women I have loved. I want to write as bright as the sun about them.

When I write about the love I have for them, I want to feel it in my bones and I want to be reminded of rainfall. Because there’s something about the rain that I can’t seem to detach myself from everything about it. I want to write about it that when I read it, I would feel goosebumps in soul and I would feel my heartbeat faster because it is effortlessly beautiful.

I tried not to give you so much information but now, you must know how much these women have done to me. I try as much as possible to not let my love for one clash for another. It would ache to see my women have so much disdain for me. Because these women, are simply plated jewels.

I can trace my fingers on the skin of my woman and it would me take far off; take me to a place that my mind can’t simply comprehend the utmost peace and serenity.

The way the women I love look into my eyes, the way they stare deep into my soul and take away whatever is left of burdens in me. I may try to string words together to make one see how I am never bad at choosing my women. I may try but I never succeed at it.

My women made the art in me and that’s why my words draw them out in your imagination.