Tension overworked, passion in its perishing vibe, sweat and rescue to fifteen months' salvation, but love remains superfluous.

Our lips part, and the distances lengthen to stretch for miles I can never replace. Your firm embrace releases, causing the the yoke of my convenent to stumble in wild tides of chaos. Words you graciously whisper shoots chills all over my being, as if I've been loved for the very first time. You lay your eyes upon me and I wind up in bashful utterance of the aptness and awkwardness of your gazes. Our receivers hang in silence, yet intimacy professes in word we will never hear or set vision upon. The crowd spinning around us does not mar the balm of obsession between just the both of us. I seem to be relishing every morsel of this repetitive lifestyle with you. Expressions of love is delusioned and transitioned, but is is undaunted, no matter what comes may.

Down this tedious journey, my hands are yours to grip onto whenever life seemingly slips away from your clutch. My eyes will water when your heart slights a crack. My lap will be available for your comfort, whenever things take their toll on you and you need somewhere to rest. My shoulders you will soak those precious crystals onto. My heart, your only home.

Because you see, life is meaningless if it were to further without you. And this path is spaced for you to pave perfectly into, so that the road might soothen.

Sweetheart, no other dedications could amplify such definitions and explanations, only because I love you so dearly. The way we squabble, bicker, fling tantrums, make up, churn amendments, misunderstand, are thoughtful towards each other and provide sweet-nothings; I've never been here before, and I can never afford to lose such perfection I've found.

Happy Fifteenth.