love languages (blood + sugar + love + magic)…

love languages (blood + sugar + love + magic)

love languages…

blood + fire… the wild. the passionate.
the visceral things that burn in your veins,
that bite at your senses, that give you a pulse

sugar + flowers… the sweet. the soft.
the vulnerable things that tender the walls
and break your heart open

love + soul… the deep. the true. the heart.
the lungs. the breathing. the wings. the free…
the things you ache for… and the ones that ache back

magic + stars… the infinite. the destined.
the things you feel beyond words, beyond bodies,
beyond… before… after… always.

– butterflies rising

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artists and lovers…

artists and lovers...

maybe,
you’ll lose a little
sleep and the sanity
will waver…
but you’ll trade it for
the dreams. for the
bleeding of the colors
and the escape from time.
and maybe the peace will
take turns with the chaos,
but this love will touch.
taste. feel. like fire…
and your soul will stir
and your heart will race
and the art will breathe.
and the awakenings
will come again and again.
and just. the existence of them…
who they are… how they are…
it will create all those hurricanes
that you feel in your chest walls.

and that’s how you’ll know.
because if they are for you…
you’ll feel it in your chest walls.

– butterflies rising

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the boys who bleed flowers and fire…

the boys who bleed flowers and fire

he’s got
a little mischief
in his smile and
a little wild in his eyes,
but there’s bleeding
in that heart
and a whole lot of
passion in that soul,
and he doesn’t just
make you feel things…
he lets himself
feel it all too.

– the boys who bleed flowers and fire

– butterflies rising

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angst and ache and wild mess…

give me your tender and your fire. your angst and ache and wild mess.

give me your tender and your fire. your angst
and ache and wild mess. all of it broken open,
nothing less. i want passion and raw vulnerability…
the stretching of your heart walls and all those
flowers growing from your chest.

– butterflies rising

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the tender and the fire…

give me the tender and the fire. i want the angst and ache and wild mess.

give me
the tender and the fire.
i want the angst and ache
and wild mess.
all of it broken open,
nothing less.
because there’s just nothing else
that can disarm me like that.
it completely takes me apart…
a man’s passion and
raw vulnerability,
the stretching of his heart walls
and all those flowers growing
from his chest.

– butterflies rising

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a wildflower on fire…

she's a wildflower on fire - butterflies rising

she’s a
wildflower on fire
with all that
sweet soul sugar
making your heart. beat.
and your skin cells rise,
she’s wild butterflies,
and the way she looks at you
under a wild moon
making your pulse move,
her beautiful chaos
asking you
to dig deep into that
passion in your bones and
bleed out all those beautiful
things that your own
wildfires hold.

– butterflies rising

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