He holds me like I've always dreamed of, as if I'm worth something, more than the sum of my broken parts. More than damaged goods. More than my trauma. His kisses are never hesitant, when he does he isn't afraid of me breaking. When I shed my clothes I do so without insecurity. His love holds me together like a needle with a thread of gold. It does more than keep me from falling apart. It glorifies my brokenness not as flaws, but as an irreplaceable part of me. Ones that deserve to be celebrated without shame. I pray my love can do the same for him one day.