how do I even begin to describe the reasons that Ty Taylor nourishes my spirit…it’s as if this entire experience with him is bringing me closer to god. His touch, as soft as the slipping leaves cascading off the branches of a red tree. He makes me feel alive in the same way the mirror tells me I’m alive. When he touches me, it’s as if he is the melted gold soon to be used against the broken pieces of pottery that make up my entire being, the masterpiece of all kintsugi’s….his hands are healing, and his eyes are like water for my soul when it gets thirsty. Whenever I’m not around him, I can feel the distance crippling me, and sickness of the soul crawls around my heart. He has such a natural tendency to live his life in the very moment, with such passion that seems utterly free of doubt. In so many ways he’s alarmingly mature, as if his innate desire is to simply love in such a way it makes me question every concept of what it means to truly live. Years of elusive fears embedded into the depths of my psyche – through horrors of trauma and upset – effortlessly dance away from me when he is near my heart. How can I even begin to love in the ways in which he does? He’s reflective and swift, directive yet subtle, motionless like the lotus at ease in the muddy waters of chaos. To be naked with him is a liberation I thought would elude me forever in this life. The way our bodies melt into each other. He is the dawn to every part of me that wishes to remain in the shadows, he brings to the surface every part of me that has always needed the comfort of a gentle and loving man.

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