Wild and pure

Recently I met a man whom I couldn’t place.He was matter of fact about everything but not in the kinda chaffingly honest way so many people think to be radical now. My ever doubtful heart couldn’t see through him but I believed him when he spoke.
He didn’t seem kind in that way that a man seems kind to impress those around him. He didn’t offer sympathy foolishly and he didn’t tell me I was beautiful because he knows the world doesn’t see me that way. I liked the way he seemed to be from another time.His hair was white and his beard was whiter. He seemed to mirror my internal with his physical. Seeming as aged as my heart has always felt.

The 1st day I met him, he said”so who do I talk to about putting a ring on it” and though I was scared(as I always am when people try to go there with me) ,I laughed because I looked in his eyes and there was no mischief.” I want to love you ” he said .” I want to love you wild and pure . I never say the perfect thing and like you I don’t have the gift of garb to sway you off your feet but my intentions are true, when I see your hand brush your belly, I think of our babies. when I glimpse your left hand I wonder if you’ve lost the ring I haven’t given you .i know you’re scared my darling and that’s okay. Just give me the chance to love you wild and pure.”
As I looked up at him in all his white haired and white-bearded glory, I thought to myself “I have always wanted wild and pure”.

If he could see these words, I bet he would smile and say”I knew you felt it too”

Honor Thyself



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