Love Language

The texture of growth deepens as time spills in, they often say love comes in different phases and places, between the span of your first and last breathe.

Sometimes found in the search of our sleeves, peeling joy from closure, from the highs and lows, with each exhales and inhale, But I don’t want a love defined.

I require a love that opens the truest parts, strong enough to be fragile, certain about letting the sun rays shared, mingle down. Bold enough to let my being be a sanctuary of love, a sanctuary of peace you return to when the world rests as I whisper poetry into your soul

A love that is made of a museum; handprints, memories, smiles hanged at every opportunity. Creating art from the act of survival.

Nothing plastered with fairytale but an imperfect love embodied with patience, to search deep and walk in to salute to the goddess nestled in my bones.

I need a love that stays when my flaws and imperfect landings are cracked open.

So go on with affection, like a ravishing piece of art, raid my lungs with every breath that builds you, your initials shelved on my bones.
Darling, graciously as we tumble, merge into the rhythm of our souls making magic,
Awaken my soul with the light turned on.

Come equipped with vulnerability, as we unpack sunlight hanging in our bones, reshaping and exploring as the heavens yawns.

–Afam Uche

INSTAGRAM || FACEBOOK || TWITTER || PINTEREST || YOUTUBE