Lonely phrases hang off his lips,
All to keep the balancing act of perfection for my Libra.
He twists and turns his own sentances to make them what he seems to think is right.
My Libra thinks in days gone by and fights we've had,
Measures the amount I love him by kisses never shared and discussion dragged on.
But he is still swears that it never meant to hurt quite that way.
Born of love and loves to much, idealistic, charming, and enchanting,
I follow his cue and never question,
Even though I probably should.
But my beautiful Libra sways in the wind,
And always has his Aquarian,
Right where he wants her...