Love becomes her. She is the living embodiment of love; her love for the flowers she nurtures, the students she teaches and mentors and love she stirs within me. When I call her mein liebchen she hears me but doesn't listen. Unlike Gambit calling her Stormy with a slight coat of flirtation to aggravate her when I call her mein liebchen there is always a drop of my adoration for her accompanied with it.
Ororo. Kenyan for beautiful she told me. Her beauty… Mein Gott is she stunning. She was molded into a ravishing creature of flesh and bone that only the good Lord could have phantom to create. For her beauty is beyond the realm of comprehension of mere man. The pain she has endured only makes her more enchanting.
When she caresses me with the softness she was gifted I ponder why Gott has blessed with her presence. Every time I breathe her name I want to inhale more of her; of her grace, of her beauty, of her being. I know she cares for me but not the extent that I do for her. I am not a delusional man but I hope to heal her hurt so that if I am fortunate enough she may feel for me as strongly as I do for her.
If I could pull a star out of the night's bleakness the twinkle in her eyes would still outshine it. I wish I could give her the endless skies for her to soar through. Mein liebchen. My heart. My love. My love becomes her.