I collect things that belong to you
Books that you've always wanted to read but never picked up
Sand from desert beaches you've wanted to see but could never touch
My granddads military bike will shine brilliant in your warm green eyes
I may have yet to see your face, but I grow to know you everyday
I am going to meet another man like him
A man that likes the things he did
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 9:06 PM UTC
What if that is true love. Being able to inherently identify with an object so closely that you begin to feel for it, or more accurately, through it. The way I often sense a single fault in a two thousand meeter sprint as if I were the hull whose gunnel flexed underneath each and every stroke. The way we trust the smooth pavement as it communicates with us seamlessly through 56 centimeter tires. I assume that it varies directly to the feeling of loving another person. But I figure it is a much more arduous task, as I cannot simply deconstruct the human anatomy like the bolts that secure my oarlock and I cannot adjust someones heart like the seat stay of my single speed in order to cope with my own discomfort.
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 4:04 PM UTC