𝗙𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝙂𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙧𝙙. 𝗜 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 —

I would write haikus with the last drops of my blood, tattoo my skin, engrave the salt of your tears into my bones.

Your initials, enraged and buried deep within my chest.

I call you my God, seek divinity in your eyes, worship the language of feminine serendipity you speak.

I love you with a heart that shatters into pieces, yet still whispers your name. I will be the Hower Persian blue, touched with yellowish hues you tuck into your braids.

I will be the invisible hands wiping away your tears. You rest upon my eyelashes, and I believe' heaven exists where your people see your reflection in the curve of asmile. They will understand why I smile, even as the world forces me to walk on shattered glass gardens just to crawl back home to you.

No curse, no grave, no force of fate can keep me from reaching your feet, seeking nirvana in your shadow.

I would love you in every birth, in every cycle of reincarnation, until I reach the lifetime where I am worthy, of you. When they ask my name, I will place yours before mine.