I love it when you smile.
And then I start fangirling inside.
Just so you know,
my heart starts burning up and my cheeks become bright red,
My face is constipated and crammed with many emotions,
and your smile is transferred onto my face,
but less elegant and more of a wild one,
deep, uncontrolled, raw and free.

And then I just want to run over and hug you and ask if I can
'Sit on your face?'

:D

I saw you in widow's eyes.
I heard you in her cries.
I smelt you in wood and fire.
I felt you in funeral pyre.

I saw you sitting on ground.
I heard you in violin's sound.
I smelt you in burning heart.
I felt you in man sitting apart.

I saw you within lost child.
I heard you in his heart wild.
I smelt you in anxious sweat.
I felt you on his cheeks wet.

Not sure if you searched me;
Or somehow I found thee;
Much love for me in you I see.
Now you ever reside in me.

So here I am, writing about you before I've even taken my shoes off. I am crazy, insane, like everything inside of me is still dancing and my heart is still pounding and the music is still reverberating around inside my skull. I'm not connected to myself, but to something more infinite--the fluid world, the wind that whips leaves through night air, the rapids pulling and sweeping away anything and everything, the movement of hips charged by dancing lights. I am energy. I am lightning piercing clouds and illuminating fireworks tenfold. I don't think, I don't question. I just move. I just want.

Under blinding lights and around beats loud enough to wreck all eardrums in their path, I have figured it out--the simplicity of it. Who needs to think when they can just FEEL?
And guess what?
I want the feeling of you.

Beautiful. How do you describe this when beauty is claimed differently for everyone...
  
Every Man , Woman , and Child is adored by another dazzling human being . These people are beautiful despite faults , addictions , and wrecks of emotion . I yearn to discover the beauty that lies beneath a person's skin .

I don't want to say I'm in love with you
But
What am I to do when you're
Everything
I see
You're the ink stains on white desk tops
You're the paint splatters in art galleries
You're the words I am typing
I don't want to say I'm in love with you
But what
If
I
Am?

Sometimes a miraculous thing happens.

The body ages,
And the skin crinkles like an old plastic bag.
And even though the body fades, the soul still fights on.
And the soul comes through the eyes.
And the most crinkled, faded old people will have the deepest eyes. Sometimes deeper than any others. Their soul comes through their eyes and draws everything in.
They glow with a brilliance earned over many years,
And even though the body withers, the eyes stay bright.

Rain go away
come out and play
in the beautiful rain
all day, all day(:

when the language of rain
is in need of
translation.

when the parallel lines
have
crossed.

when observing the time
by the pizza boxes
arching
toward
a ceiling fan.

when pages of
stories are skipped
to the end unread.

rain touches the lonely,
rain is weaving  
the hearts
with dreams.

rain colors the lonely
arching in color
touching the sky.  

droplets  of water
through your window glass
tapping of comfort
of watering eyes.