my poetic license got confiscated.

PS:

"i start to write the words and always take them back because there are secret things happening between us and i don't have the means to describe them. There are feelings- innate, secret, important and lovely- that i cannot even begin to explain.I want to write you novels on the palm of my hands and between my fingers ,on the backs of my knees,and behind my ears, and i could use every last word in the dictionary and foreign languages and pictures and colors and none of it would, for one single moment, fully explain the way i feel when i wake up in the morning and remember that you exist.You are worth volumes of written word, and yes, it is simply miraculous that you exist."

http://www.nygirlofmydreams.com/