“She is so beautiful…”
“Indeed, she’s, she’s different, unique, beautiful, and words won’t be fair to describe her…”
“You love her!”
“Love? What love is if not her? what love is about if not seeing her every moment? What love means if not her name?
No one should look at her as I do, No one should see what I see, no one should look at her eyes, see the passion inside her, see the love she can give, see the dreams she has, see the desires she wants…
No one should write poems about her lips, those lips that meant only for me, those lips that only talks to me, those lips that only can kiss my pain away..
No one should write poems of her eyes, those brown eyes, those eyes with a lot of dreams, passion, love and desire.
No one should touch her as I do, No one should feel the softness of her skin, the feel of her silky skin and the shiver she could give; no one should feel that skin or even see.
No one should feel the scent of her soft hair, No one should hear her steps walking toward him, she not allowed to walk to anyone but me…
No one should love her as I do, No one should feel what I feel, no one should paint her with his colors; no one should draw her features and imagine her as I do.
No one can dream about her in the long nights or see her in the shiny days as I do; No one can have her warm in the winter, or her scent in the spring, or her songs in the Fall, or her love in the summer as I do.
But can I prevent anyone from loving her, painting her, writing poems about her? Can I prevent anyone from imagining this beauty and this pure, innocent soul? Love is her and she’s only mine; If I can’t prevent them, I can prevent her from being to someone else; she’s only mine and her love is mine, her eyes are mine, her heart, her soul, body and every bit of her mine…