She's a tangled mess of wild- a forest nymph, a goddess child. She's like the seductive sea - feral and fierce, calm and serene. She's the starfish swimming in my soul, the woman child who keeps me sane, who keeps me whole.

You'll find magic everywhere, even in dark, dusty corners, if you stop searching with your limited human eyes and instead feel with your naked soul.

She doesn’t burn bridges,
she covers them in gypsy flowers
and feather kisses,
then strolls along her merry way.
Too heavy to carry grudges,
she leaves love and hope droplets
wherever she goes.

She's the kind of girl who brings you to the moon without you even being aware. The kind of girl you trip on love with. The kind of girl you never forget.

Groomed and clean cut are fine and dandy,
but I want to run with the mad ones;
the ones comfortable playing in overgrown forests,
rolling in leaves,
dancing under a scorching sun.
The ones not afraid of getting dirty.
Not afraid of burning.

The amount of her madness
depends on the amount of her love.
If she is crazy, frantic, insane with you,
then simply stated . . .
She is in love with you.