your smile could light up
a million different candles
while your eyes then formed little crescents
as ethereal as the moon

you felt as a summers day
in the middle of December

my cheeks would change colour
just at the mere thought of you

you were like a delicate flower
standing out in the fields

Dear Mr. Sunshine,
I always paint you pictures–
Large, sweeping canvases
of my ramblings. Often,
my paintbrush is hazy.
Fogged up with the tropical,
heavy-weight air of future-obsession.
Incertitude-crazy.

Mr. Sunshine,
You are quiet humility.
You are imperfect and simultaneously
You are flawless.
Your kindness is the vastness
of the West. Exceeding.
And lawless.

My Sunshine,
You paint my murky canvas
Adoringly
so yellow.

Night comes and million stars lights up the sky, They sing songs that no one heard before.
Night leaves and takes all the stars with him,
leaving the sun all by itself, a lonely star in a strange land.
I looked at the lonely star and saw a reflection of myself.
My mouth started moving but my soul was talking.
“Oh Sun don’t be afraid I will be your friend when the day comes
We will sing and light up the world like no other star can.
Oh lonley Star don’t be afraid, everything will be just fine with me by your side and you by mine.”

The best kinds of kisses are the ones that you don't think about.
The ones that take a look into your eyes to get the mood right.
The ones that cut off your thoughts, your words, your mind
But don't make you stress about doing it right.

I was never much of a kisser,
No one wanted to kiss me like that.
That is until I just bit the bullet and took matters into my own hands.
I just did it, for once.
And, for once, that was enough.

It was just a little kiss.
I'm sure it lasted a second.
You told me your name and shook my hand and said 'I think you deserve a kiss for that'
After duetting with you on karaoke.
How millennial!
How divine!
I just looked up at you and it happened just like in the movies
And I pulled away because I had to leave.
You kissed me on the cheek and said goodbye to me.
But I wish I could kiss you again.

his head dipped in- so close that i could feel his hot breath against my lips.
skin so close that if i touched it everything would fall to pieces.
should i touch his lips and end this tension or let this space between us push us to edge?
every imperfection is crystal clear.
once we step back from where we are nothing can change the things we have already seen.
the thoughts, dreams, hopes, and wishes.
so as we sit here with this tension building,
should i give a piece of me and touch those lips that are so close to my skin.