wishes two
Hold me ’til I’m old —
so very tightly when I’m cold,
and just like the moon, nightly;
brightly, like the stars,
and when I’m much too warm, lightly.
Love me like I’m gold —
to be worn forever boldly,
and to another, never sold;
sign of a bond to never sever,
and to a diamond, never lesser.
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That’s so sweet and pretty. Who doesn’t want to be loved like they are gold?
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You’re becoming my muse, messy. How I’ve underestimated the simple act of being held. There’s a life time you could spend thinking about that simple, complicated act.
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“Sign of a bond to never sever, and to a diamond, never lesser.” The way that sounds when read aloud is just wicked.
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