libertine

you have plants coming out of the crevices of your bedroom window. you're that kind of girl, a libertine. a perfect human being becoming the woman of my dreams by capturing beauty in small things, in sparkling stars and singing. taking ordinary and making them marvelous.

i sat there on your bed the first time you invited me in, smiling to myself. the floating world between worlds i found myself in seemed walked into from my past way back when it was perfect. your hands and feet i've known before, having been touched by you as a child unseen. our beginning was prewritten, written into the life we've led this far, taking us into the far beyond of where we're meant to end.

your plants are reaching for me, sort of organically slipping through the cracks between out and in. free-forming, plant-body forming limbs that have curiously curled into the corners of my heart in the places i thought were closed off to that sort of silliness. you show me everyday that a heart shouldn't be closed off to beauty like that. i knew at that moment, then, that i'm meant to be with you.

because you're a libertine.