You’re the kind of girl I’d give up something I’ve done a long time before just to see you for a short while. I’d give up a passion and in return you’d take away the madness that follows. I’d know happiness and serenity because you would share your secret thoughts with me. And I think I would have hands that envied my eyes when we get stuck in a crowd and I would want to be alone with you
..I’m always with this hope that I’d share a part of myself with you that would make you think twice before deciding to go to sleep. Like maybe my next word to you or the next kiss planted on your lips would shake your core and make you quiver. I wish to know what that life could be.
Your smile radiates transformative properties comparable to a dying sun going supernova which has the chance to renew its cycle and begin again, bringing new energy and life and warmth to the coldness of the universe. Sadly, this, the most powerful display that nature can provide pales dimly when set against your smile. I could experience a sun implode and explode releasing its vibrancy of colors across the entire visible spectrum and it’s supersonic vibrations that could shatter me infinitely. Yet, it all seems so utterly dull when compared to your smile.
I hope no one ever loves you like you’re anything else but extraordinary.
Perhaps in another life we were childhood friends. Catching up and sharing a drink at 3am on a cozy summer porch with the stars watching over us. And now, I have that glass in an empty bar in my small town, waiting for iridescent eyes such as yours to show the other half of this split soul. Waiting for a trail that can lead back to that previous and long ago moonless night, so quite possibly I can be reconnected. Do I just recall a foolish daydream romance from the recesses of my mind?
Or is there ancient meaning behind the recognition I find in your familiarity? Is there absolving hope, that if you saw an absence in my eyes filled by your reflection, you would stay just a short while to see if in return I restored something missing from you? And if what is said is true, and the eyes are the windows to the soul, I wish to build the house that you reside in with my two hands …from the ground up ..an old love could grow again and new.
Even before this life I’m sure I preferred whiskey with the sight of your eyes.
Words vanish from the palette of my tongue when I dare to describe your earthly form. Just as the sky loses it’s colors at nightfall, I feel striped bare of all articulation. Days and days pass on without function attaining fruition so I may attempt, though futile it will seem, to solidify thoughts with this intangible language that could not entirely convey your grace to all those unknowing. Nevertheless I will continue to write, for I believe that a glimpse even by imagination is all others would need to know that a certain type of heaven can and does so exist, embodied by you.
It’s been a while, and I cannot dilute my daydreams enough to forget the symmetry of your face and when the nightfalls I am haunted by the inescapable fact, that I do not know who you are. I dream to know the subtleties of your expressions and the happiness you project from a sweet surprise, to be so intimate that you are not guarded with me and can openly share your anxieties and troubles. I wish to be your comfort in this world. I want to be the one that stands by your side if you may falter.
This will be the sixth time I have been able to gather my composure to write words with purpose and with the passion you have unknowingly given to me. I know if I make it out to that island you will be the first and only sight I would want to see and only person I would wish to speak with. I would want to thank you in person for helping me find my “voice” again. The sentences and their structure seem to form all at once when inspired by your spirit. To have a chance to know your presence, leaves me utterly drunk with hopeful desire. Would my approach turn you away? Perhaps the reality of the situation? Nevertheless, I know that all the pain of possible rejection would significantly outweigh the potential for a lifetime regret of passing up the opportunity to meet you, to know you. I do not want us to be like those ships passing in the night.
When my eyes are heavy and the days of self inflicted sleep deprivation truly start to unravel me, I can completely displace myself in dangerous illusion. In the fantasy of being at your side, sharing simple gestures, fingers tracing and tickling skin, a breath on the neck, a bite on your inner thigh perhaps, and soft whispers of all that I want to give to you, all I want to learn from you. I know this is more provocative than usual, must be the blood moon, late nights my dear & beautiful muse.
As I await the morning sunlight flooding into my room, I grow consumed by all the endless thoughts and phrases of devotion that fill my mind when I see you. Your radiance. Your splendor of existence. Congratulations to the universe on such an exquisite display of beauty as well as elegance. Your insights, and the history you’ve created are an empire of discoveries I covet most savagely. So exposed I feel now without the veil of anonymity yet I cannot simply, turn away. Your gravity has me. Compelled by the atoms under our skin that burst millennia prior, from the same star, I cannot be released. I do not want to be. I wish to stay ..here, with you, in this precious fleeting moment of life.
Just as the planets and all the burning stars spin across our open and endless universe in a cosmic dance of designed destiny and creation, I feel as if I was meant to find you. Of course, if you had been the quintessential “girl next door,” meeting you could be so much easier but don’t you agree that the most challenging endeavors we face in life are often times the most rewarding? I wonder how peculiar I must seem. I wonder if you trust my words. And if so, I wonder how I became so fortunate.