It was there in that roomthat I discovered I was wrong.That I did not need to search the stars for God,to explore the highest peaksor chart the abyssal depthsfor proof.That God,in all of His glory,could be found in the honey-touched eyesof a woman who had to be strongfor a little too long. ~lt

The woman within you;that wildcrazyand passionate woman,ignites the man in me.I knew you were the onewhen I looked at myselfand said,“I can be better.” ~lt

Memories of youpour from melike rainfalling softlydown the windowsof my mind. ~lt

A writer’s deathlies alwaysin his own self-destruction. ~lt

I think of what it would be liketo hold youclose.Throwing on some Stapletonand a glass of something strongrocking side to sidewith you.You’ve always had me,you know?Those honey-soaked eyesnever looked so good.I’ve never been much of dancerbut the way you say my namemakes me want to hold youjust like thisand dance these long nightsaway. ~lt

I do so love the soundof wind rushing through the trees,of oars in a calm spring,of cool rain on glass,of wood crackling in a fire,of my name on your lipsand your nameon mine. ~lt

eyes like yours are never “just brown”.they are golden pools of honey-soaked sage,a chilled glass of smoky bourbon, aged to perfection,a fresh press of rich, chocolaty coffee, smooth and deep.eyes like yours are never “just brown”. ~lt

Give me your painsand I will plant themto show you that the most beautiful bloomsstem from the seeds that have suffered the most. ~lt