His love is like an eclipse
Or the highest peak of a mountain range covered in clouds
His love is a wild river overrun
A dry desert now muddy
He has energy like the Northern Lights which flutter in my soul
His grasp is a tether tied to my love
© Delia Ross. 2019
(I want to turn this into a rhyme so badly but…)
Am I suppose to stop loving him?
I need answers.