Dear Love,
Even though you're gone, your rapture left it's indelible mark on me. Your soul-filled touch to my most tender part I still feel...like phantom pain. How you engulfed me with a swirl of haze and laid me down for your taking. Tickling me with principles of pleasure...pleasuring my senses...converting me from cynic to believer. You proposed to my intellect, made love to my creative spark, fathered my life's dreams and reared your ugly head when they imploded. Love, I know you will return to me...for I've let you go. I know you will go outward and spread your seed, sodding the fertile minds of open whores...charmed by the promise of you. I know you will be the seducter of perfected ideas and blurred expectations...sweetly rock a bye with a sly and raised eye. I know you'll give good head and stroke a black hole with gray shades...for mine is sore from the rawness of you.
Love, I love you...always have because you always existed. I always will, because you are in me...implanted and grown from the natural source. In the end...love...you were mine. When you were everyone else's and no one's at all. You're my love...the love of me...endlessly.
Love, Miss Taken
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