The Allure of an Angel: Addiction to Love

Was she capable of providing love? 

To offer time, heart, and touch in abundance. 

I dwelled upon the day her feet stood before mine. 

Her eyes spoke to mine. Could she be the angel I’ve longed for? 

The angel I’ve envisioned standing in my auras? 

She stood in magnificence, my eyes full of her belle. 

An indescribable beauty she depicted, 

perfect in its form like an illustration of divinity. 

An illustration with peach detail and rupture. 

A perfect illusion. 

I stood in front of her unbound bliss of purity and light. 

She nestled there as a blossomed rose

plucked out of a parcel of stunning rays. 

I reached for her wings staining them with the touch of my palms. 

I placed my cheek against the softness of her feathers, 

it delighted me. 

Her touch was uncontaminated with the poisons of earth. 

Her existence was whole. 

Although she was foreign to my existence. 

She was my angel, she was my ecstasy. 

She was my fix, she was my addiction. 

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