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Quote by Rendi Ansyah

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Beyond the Bouquet: A Symphony of Love in Fifty Movements

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Rendi Ansyah

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“I love the commanding tone of your voice and how it falls in gentle rhythms. I love how you dance like the waves and pull me in with your tide. You're every ounce as beautiful as the sea and every bit as wild. You have no idea the extent how vibrantly you glow, but perhaps you're learning. And I love that. I love you." A flutter in my chest multiplies, blooming and blooming and blooming, like the kaleidoscope in my dream. Only this time, it doesn't shatter. It holds me there in that rose-gold glow. I burst, but in a way that's expansive, not destructive. I leap forward, pressing my lips to his, obliterated by the dew-damp softness. His eyes widen as he pulls away. I gape at him, flushed. "I---I'm sorry." He hesitates, but then he pounces, drawing me towards his embrace and crushing my open mouth. It happens so fast. He grabs me by the thighs, welling up my skirt as he carries me out of the water. My fingers curl through his hair, and novas explode as he slips his tongue onto mine. He holds me tighter, kissing me over and over again like repeating a melody. It's as natural as language, as wild as the roaring sea. We fall to the ground, and a bed of flowers blossoms beneath us, pale pink and soft. The velvet petals tangle in my hair as he presses into me--- skin on skin, blooming with wild heat. We fold into each other, our arms coiling like serpents, my fingers tracing his body. He pulls away for just a moment, but only to study me like the rarest opal, admiring my every color and curve before kissing my lips--- sweet and soft and slow. We repeat the motions in a ritual that's only our own. I try to catch my thoughts, but they're all tangled up . Though, there's one thing I know for sure. Through my unsteady breathing, I whisper, "I love you, too." Despite what the Devil thinks, I am capable of love, and I won't let him win, not now. Damien and I collapse into the damp petals, surrendering to the night.”

“Passion comes from feeling like you are a part of something that you believe in, something bigger than yourself. If people do not trust that a company is organized to advance the WHY, then the passion is diluted. Without managed trust, people will show up to do their jobs and they will worry primarily about themselves. This is the root of office politics—people acting within the system for self-gain often at the expense of others, even the company. If a company doesn't manage trust, then those working for it will not trust the company, and self-interest becomes the overwhelming motivation.”

“Yaoyao reached out involuntarily as if by instinct and drew him to her in a tight embrace. His love for his mother reminded her of her loss. Holding him was a way to anchor herself. Perhaps he felt the same. The gap, the hole, the emptiness. It threatened to consume them. Only within his arms and her embrace could they find wholeness. In her imagination, he had leaned down to kiss her lips, but in his recollection, she had leapt into his arms, wrapping her legs around his body as she hungered for his warmth. There was a certain dichotomy to the act of giving and receiving, of loving and being loved. Even as they explored one another for the first time—an awkwardness here, an apology there—and through the giggles, laughter, and tears, they made one another complete.”