My little Butterflies.

Monday, August 6, 2012

More than Heart.


How foolish it is to think that we love only with our hearts. The heart is just an organ with a job to do, a quota to fill. When I love, I don't want to love with a blood-pumping machine. I want to love with every inch of my body. 

I will love you with my knees and my fingertips, with my elbows and my collarbones. With my freckles and my knuckles, my wrinkles and my scars. 

And I will love you with all the spaces in between.

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