Sometimes when I think of you.
I think about your smile. The way you talk.
I am forever thinking about your laugh.
Sometimes I think about what you'd be like as a butterfly.
Fluttering about in your thoughts.
Nothing to hold you back from where you wonder next.
It's always at the strangest.
Most simplistic time that you appear and spread your joy.
As soon as your seen you disappear again.
Wandering about as free as you came.
Sometimes I wish I had your courage.
The strength to wander about as softly and freely as you do.
I admit, before I met you the thought of a butterfly laughing never crossed my mind.
The part of yourself that voluntarily gives without worry.
Bumping into the funniest of things.
Often times not knowing it's own perception of depth.
Sometimes I wonder where do you go when you miss someone so much.
If that reoccurring feeling ever leaves or does it continue to get stronger.
Finding a place to sit and wonder.
If you'll ever land on my shoulder once more

Do you think of me.
Most beloved. The purpose of my existence.
I am certain of nothing else but this one thing.
That you breathe into the ideal of something outside of myself.
The commute of daily life.
The hours, seconds and years that it takes to build the ultimate dream.
The toil of hard working hands that desire more.

The first kiss of the rest of my life.
An envelope sealed under the same ideals.
The letter being you wrapped tight in my arms.
Over one thousand kisses stamped over and over mailed to the same address.
Time after time again.
Under the circumstance that I am thinking of you each and every time that I am smitten in thought.
A letter not to be returned to sender in the hopes that you feel the exact same way.
 
I admit that we are human and lust is not to be confused with desire in any way.
Mail carriers sometimes deliver mail to the wrong P.O box.
Some post offices take at least 5 to 7 business days if mailed out of state.
Handled by different hands, sorted, bagged and carried.
 
 
And here I sit, currently unmarked.
Uncertain if I will make it there in time
for holding one of the most potent substances known to man

And that is your niche I told her.
Finding all things lost.
If I were to swallow ten thousand puzzle pieces.
Each belonging to a different size.
A different color.
No matter how I hide them.
I have perfect faith that you will find each piece.
That's just what you do.
There is no hiding any part of me.
With the slightest look.
The slightest word.
You immediately know what's on my mind
and I love it.
Arranging my every thought to where you see best.
It's really a no brainer
Finding where I belong

And there began our oral history.
Removed from text, living and breathing.
Passed back and forth between lips.
I myself a promise, her oath.
The anxious lump that hesitates in the back of the throat.
The inner most of courage exchanged in deep sigh.
Finding it impossible to hold on to my own words.
I hold on to hers, and it is within this freedom am I truly free.
Without confines to anything, other than ourself.
That we find influence from events current and past. 
Well dressed in each others lips.
We both fold the page.
In exception to our next breath

My attraction towards her was fatal.
For the realest things to come from her lips affected me in more ways than one.
You see truth speaks volume.
And the beauty that comes from her lips was more than I anticipated.

Feeling my attraction begin to rise.
I attempted to switch the subject.

Finding that we both shared the same amount of pain.
Adding value to each subject that rose.


I began to feel that there was more for me.
My self consciousness reacting before I could gather myself completely.

I felt a sense of liberation.
No longer the day I had at work, what I was planning to eat on the way home.

More instead how every other thought included her.
The respect held eye to eye.
The avenues of how her day went, the ins and outs.

The evidence that I found what I was missing.
And I didn't understand one bit.

 

I suppose it's better that way.
Stepping outside of myself into the crossway leading off into the street.
A dark backdrop highlighted by a white light of a bald man walking before it turns
A reddish orange.
Though nothing is as harmless as it seems.
I felt at ease staring into her eyes.

 

Stepping inside of her mind was like walking into an art gallery.
Her interests, technological advances all highlighted in bright and violet hue.
All in the span of 10 minutes walking in.
Mutually we both spoke with our hands.
We'd throw fits with our laughs, indulging in the philosophy of smile.

 

With morality aroused I instantly began questioning myself.
Wanting to know more I asked question, after question.
Anything as a means to have kept her talking. Feeling an everlasting peace.
Walking downtown in an abundance of space, I felt I could breathe.

But I couldn't shake that she felt that I was like most guys.
That at any moment, as comfortable as she was, she was still waiting on me
to give any indication that I was no different than the faces pointed down scrolling down their phone.

 

And we,
Like separate thumbs.
Belonged to different people
Trouble

I got a call from an angel
Floating on a cloud.

I made her laugh with the last message I sent her.

Misinterpreted messages lost in the light of the sun.

With ears at attention there was a brief silence.

Walking through the hall of infatuation.

She made me smile.

My hearts done none stop jumping jacks since the first time I saw her smile.

I told her about a dream I had.

Changing into something a bit more subtle.

We back peddled to the day we first met.

Just before the first date, but right after the third date.

The first moment that felt like we ascended.

The way time always seems to fly when were together.

The songs that describe exactly what it feels like to deeply understand.

The breaks between the bass where our hearts completely zoned out in a full day dream.

Knowing the words to every song that played.

Selectively introverted to the world around.

A mixed bag in the variables of comfort.

An audience of denim in a world filled with leggings.

Even in silence I send my prayers.

To an angel whom answers, as well as makes calls of her own

Nothing hurts more than anticipation.
The fear of the unknown.

 

A love yet spoken.
Unspoken in desire.

 

Yet it sits and grows in the vase planted.
An odd since of humor. 
It learned to smile.

 

Sprouting buds and leaves.
The taller it grew no longer
could it hide this desire.
Wrapping itself in vine.

 

Choosing to explore the unknown.
A love yet spoken.
Seen from the height of the vase planted.
It learned to smile more.

 

Finding a love seen from behind the glass.
It yearned for the sun,
Sleeping only when it couldn't be seen.
The sun.

 

The nourishment of dreams, granting peace.
A means to grow almost overnight.
Discovering more than this warmth felt root to stem.

 

The manifestation of the smallest thing.
Held tight, each bud, every leaf.
Symbolic of the heights reached.

 

Learning to speak in amplified volume.
It painted itself in infatuation.
Removing the price tag from the vase.

 

One of the greatest loves
Ever grown
Replanted outside.
Soaring above the clouds