what if only…

what if only, when you feel her reaching for you, you could reach too.

what if only,
when you feel
her reaching for you,
you could reach too.
maybe go a little higher.
just let yourself stretch.
and let your heart grow.
what if only,
instead of pulling away,
instead of trying to pull her down,
you could just go a little higher.
you could let her fire be bright.
and you could let your fear be small.
what if only
you could let the way you see
yourself be stretched…
you could let your whole. soul. grow.
i know you wonder what it could be like…
if maybe it’s beautiful there.
so what if only…

– 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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love that blooms wild and burns bright…

love that blooms wild and burns bright inside of you

the kind of love
that shifts you. and stirs you.
and awakens you. and inspires you.
and blooms wild and burns bright
inside of you… and for you…
and through you.
a visceral thing that you touch
and taste and feel in your senses,
in your being, in your soul…
in your everything.
a knowing.
beyond what you understand in your head,
a knowing that you feel in your heart…
one that you feel in your chest walls.

– butterflies rising

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just a little…

i can get a little reckless when my heart is restless

and maybe,
sometimes i back up
just a little,
just to breathe…
to steady in me.
and maybe, sometimes,
my fingers will untangle
just a little,
just to feel…
how to be mine, all mine.
and maybe,
i can get a little reckless
when my heart is restless,
but it’s still always yours,
all yours.

– butterflies rising

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the priceless things…

nothing feels as rich, as expensive, as being held by hands laced in respect

nothing feels
as rich, as expensive,
as being held by hands
laced in respect,
strong hands
that can be soft hands
and slow hands
against your skin
like flowers, like curiosity…
and eyes that mean what they say
when they say all those things
that eyes say… like,
it’s safe here.
and there’s truth here.
and there’s depth in here.
and full. attention.
that undeniable,
can’t not. must have.
ache for you, ache for this…
nothing. but. this.
kind of aching in you,
reaching for an aching me…

those are the priceless things,
give me your priceless things.

– butterflies rising

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