And Yours, I.

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“I must tell you a secret,” she said. I have yet to love someone, the way that I love you. I have lied to past lovers and reckoned with untruths, all before I met you. You have loved another, maybe more, but not in this way. Not in the w...

“I must tell you a secret,” she said.

I have yet to love someone, the way that I love you. I have lied to past lovers and reckoned with untruths, all before I met you. You have loved another, maybe more, but not in this way. Not in the way the silence fallen from your lips envelopes my heart. You may look me in the eyes and tell me you have kissed a thousand men, and not a string of jealousy would beam from my tongue. How could I? Why would I be jealous? They have touched your lips with mere parts of their exterior, when in fact; I have bathed in the seas of your soul. Allowably, you might whisper in my ear that you have laid with men who undeniably mull over your dazzle, and not a pinch of jealousy would lapse from my lips. How could I? Why would I be jealous? For they have only lain with you, and I have lived inside of you since the beginning of all beginnings. You were mine long before you existed, and I, yours.

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