And how do I show I love you?

'Tis not a look

Nor touch of skin.

'Tis not lock of hands

Or interwine of long, lacey fingers.

Let him sweep me off my feet

And let me fly for the first time in my life

Because I deserve it.

Because I am alive.

He knows I live.

He lifts me,

Arms like towers

That tower over me.

Lips that kiss those that are bloodstained;

Hatredstained, yet healed with a pure love

Unknown by so many,

Cherished by all.