It clings, like sweet perfume.

Make no mistake…

She commands the upper room.

She was delicately designed

With legs so fine, they wrap around my mind…

I see it all, in her crystal ball,

When I kneel before her shrine.

And these butterflies are rising by the millions,

In celebration of this woman,

And her movement.

Princesa Venezolana,

My Love, my goddess…

She is brilliant, in every sense.

Under pressure, and the 

Criss-crossed trails of

Rocket launcher smoke,

She stares to meet the setting Sun,

Replacing its holy glow

With her own.

And for the majesty she is,

The fading star will not be missed.

And I’ve told this story…

But did I mention 

That Merida, our Love and Savior

Would lift her head, rise beside her neighbors

And like a live grenade, 

She’d shatter every expectation?

Merida, she bears the light of day.

Merida, my heart is hers to claim,

Her spirit, as strong and sublime as the gemstones she wears.

She is my passion, the woman with the sunset stare.

She is my distraction,

This Goddess of honest warfare.

And no me digas que I’m dreaming just a little too hard,

No me digas que ni montaña, ni mar,

Can hold me back from mi querida’s heart…

I will follow her into Oblivion,

Because I know that her decisions

Are always grounded in kindness,

And the explosive inner beauty

That has truly ignited my spirit, and brought me to this state of worship.

Merida, the shining edge of nature’s rejuvenating razor,

Merida, I cling to the lingering aftertaste of sweetest honey.

“Duendecita escondida, strip the offering from these words.”

She will shake awake the essence

Of what we call “The Greater Day”.

She is going to save this world,

From a town

In Venezuela.

And she will. Yes she will.

Merida, Most High. Our Love, and Savior.


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