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She is beyond words, beyond language, but I am a romantic, so I will try to explain anyway
how each and every word I speak belongs to you, is made of you, even if you will never read them
She walks with a confidence, undeserved
as if she doesn’t create fire hazards on a flat plain, no woods in sight
There are no sicks to start to fire, and no friction, because her hands are soft and she’d complain of them callousing
But evolution favoured her, so she starts fires with her footsteps and that’s why she’s always warm
She’s a natural disaster, but then again, so am I
When she cries, she makes rivers
and her heartbeat shifts tectonic plates
and each of her breaths is a cyclone
and her rage could melt glaciers
What I am trying to say is that she’s all that’s natural in the world
Her concept predates the dinosaurs or Persephone
Were you there at the start of the universe, with me?
I shout of love in open fields while you set fires
and we are made of stars, but we also stand beneath them
Will those stars become like us one day and love too?
She is all my words, and I am a romantic
Negate language, take them straight from my mouth with your tongue
That’s organic and it’s tangible and isn’t it beautiful to be real?
Our love is natural, and as real as the starts in the sky we are made of, and the Earth beneath our feet
Written by Chloe Chase-Hodgson
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