Love poem : The first time we met...

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I know him better than anyone else and he knows me just as well. We have been together for 2 years and 2 months. I long for the day when our lips would meet; Shall I live another day without saying how much I Iove you? I pray every night that God will watch over him and help the both of us and guide us to where he wants us to be in life and pray that it is the one thing that one prayer that he answers for me that I so truly want.

I love him to pieces and he treats me so right. He was upset because he couldn't control me anymore. For there were countless numbers of stars: each time we looked above we were astounded by the swiftness of their daring play, while in our hearts we felt safe and secure watching these brilliant bodies disintegrate, knowing somehow we had survived their fall.

When I First Met Her

It was books that made me feel that perhaps I was not completely alone. They could be honest with me, and I with them. Reading your words, what you wrote, how you were lonely sometimes and afraid, but always brave; the way you saw the world, its colors and textures and sounds, I felt--I felt the way you thought, hoped, felt, dreamt. I felt I was dreaming and thinking and feeling with you. I dreamed what you dreamed, wanted what you wanted--and then I realized that truly When we first met poems for her just wanted you. The thunderbolt, as Italians call it. Once the thunderbolt hits, your life is irrevocably changed. Then, we met, and everything changed, the cynic has become the converted, the sceptic, an ardent zealot. It takes time to really, truly fall for someone. A moment when you glimpse the truth within someone, and they glimpse the truth within you. Part of you belongs to him; part of him belongs to you. Many, many, many times before and when we stumble through grace and circumstance and that brilliant illusion of choice to finally meet them again, we feel it faster each time through. The one glance that set life alight is two sets of two eyes staring through the layers of lifetimes and stolen glances and first kisses and hands held; the brace against the weight and unrelenting tide of waiting. I believe in love at first sight but am not burdened with the misconception that it's a first sight at all. For love at first sight requires the very sign of its suddenness; and of all things, it is the scene which seems to be seen best for the first time: a curtain parts and what had not yet ever been seen is devoured by the eyes: the when we first met poems for her consecrates the object I am going to love. The context is the constellation of elements, harmoniously arranged that encompass the experience of the amorous subject. Love at first sight is always spoken in the past tense. The scene is perfectly adapted to this temporal phenomenon: distinct, abrupt, framed, it is already a memory the nature of a photograph is not to represent but to memorialize. The gesture of the amorous embrace seems to fulfill, for a time, the subject's dream of total union with the loved being: The longing for consummation with the other. In this moment, everything is suspended: time, law, prohibition: nothing is exhausted, nothing is wanted: all desires are abolished, for they seem definitively fulfilled. A moment of affirmation; for a certain time, though a finite one, a deranged interval, something has been successful: I have been fulfilled all my desires abolished by the plenitude of their satisfaction. Every day of that voyage I loved her more, and many a time since have I kneeled down in the darkness of the night watch and kissed the deck of that ship because I knew her dear feet had trod it. She treated me as fairly as ever a woman treated a man. It was all love on my side, and all good comradeship and friendship on hers. When we parted she was a free woman, but I could never again be a free man. There was pride in that smile and confidence in the set of her fine nose. Without understanding why I knew beyond question that a lot of people would mistake her pride for arrogance and confuse her confidence with impassivity. My eyes were lost swimming floating free in the shimmering lagoon of her steady even stare. Her eyes were large and spectacularly green. It was the green that trees are in vivid dreams. It was the green that the sea would be if the sea were perfect. They were words only the heart could hear and understand, words that could impart entire pentameter sonnets in their few, short syllables. So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. Or perhaps, What are we lacking so that we can turn life in the direction we want. Perhaps the lover is the outlaw in ourselves we don't quite have the nerve to claim. No image comes to mind that doesn't offend against the rules of good style, to say what they were and what they did to me. That's the notion that the new expression put in my head. They held some kind of mysterious, active fluid, a force that dragged one in, like the undertow of a wave retreating from the shore on stormy days. So as not to be dragged in, I held onto anything around them, her ears, her arms, her hair spread about her shoulders; but as soon as I returned to the pupils of her eyes again, the wave emerging from them grew towards me, deep and dark, threatening to envelop me, draw me in and swallow me up. Which is why, in so many love stories, there is simply nothing else for the narrator to do with a couple after they have triumphed over a range of initial obstacles other than to consign them to an ill-defined contented future--or kill them off. What we typically call love is only the start of love.

Then rivers of love flow to my heart and my spirit ascends. I believe you are my missing rib. Every word is true, I swear this, you are my world, God is my witness. Don't let him over rule you or tell you you're not worthy enough for him, because every individual person in a relationship shouldn't have to try to get love. Daria Rodriguez A Butterfly Inside Where did you come from butterfly So elegant and lovely in flight? I have two kids that are disabled. It describes me and my bf so well. You make me weak when I talk to you.