The start of a transition we only wish to peel away layers revealing the beauty made of nakedness. Beauty that’s been locked up for years is finally free. To roam as she wants all cupped and warm with an upturned glance casually falling over her bare shoulders. Written there, on her side are the pretty words. She honestly doesn’t mind, as long as we look keeping eyes away from hers. This promise to always be the one comes at a heavy price, most wouldn’t want to swear to be her one true love against the hours now I’m hurrying to write to get it all down. So that long before she ever wakes up and asks from exactly where all this is coming from? I can deny I stayed awake making sure she had her fill of poetic words. Love stumbles and falls all laid out are erotic wants and needs that bleed and sour together. Even still, she’s prettier than most others and all this is long before she ever grows her wings.