Garden in My Lover’s Heart

 

Garden in My Lover’s Heart

 

the love of my life traps me into a maze of bouquets and flowers. My love for divine spirits resembles the Venus Flytrap. Ever so evergreen in their tolerance of cowards such as me. Flowers blooms as tall as towers, as your voice grows into the crook of my neck. Divinity is all that I ever care to bet and seem to forget about me with every beating sweat. 

 

Seeming to unwillingly follow feminism as she sweetly. You still have me losing optimism in this maze of misunderstanding and false assumptions. Accustomed to the lustful dialect sprinkled in the soil of sensuality. 

 

Mother nature wouldn’t be proud of the disaster her little one caused. He’s wicked and wild continuing regardless of reasonable clause. With lightning strikes never twice between his lovers and escorts. Who’s the really the boss? It was always divinity… the story always revolved around it. Complaining less and less until none completely. Consumed by counterintuitive acts abided by love within the lost lover’s garden.