Sărut mâna….
I kneel before you and kiss your hand and vow to you that I love you and put no one else above you. I love you with my whole mind and with the breadth of my spirit. You”VE WOVEN GOLDEN THREADS THEAT BIND MY HEART TO YOUR FOREVER, and you did this just by being you. now all of my dream revolve around you and would have no meaning without you; FOR MY HEART EXISTS to love you and would be empty without your light.i adore you, so perfectly, so beautifully, so completely that I will cherish you unto madness and carry this love with me beyond death.
androxa 
Some people —
that means not everyone.
Not even most of them, only a few.
Not counting school, where you have to,
and poets themselves,
you might end up with something like two per thousand.
Like —
but then you can like chicken noodle soup,
or compliments, or the color blue,
your old scarf.
your own way,
petting the dog.
Poetry —
but what is poetry anyway?
More than one rickety answer
has tumbled since that question first was raised.
But I just keep on not knowing, and I cling to that
like a redemptive handrail.
— Wislawa Szymborska
May 6, 2011 at 11:56
I wish to meet a man who will kiss my hand!
May 6, 2011 at 13:17
Im sure there are some men out there who will ..but beware of the slime balls 🙂
May 6, 2011 at 13:20
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