Your eyes are piercing,
Deep as the raging sea.
And yet they dance ceaselessly
With the laughter of a child.
Your arms, tired and struggling to remain steady,
Still somehow find time
To fly across the monkey bars of your youth.
Your words, often in constant motion,
Often filled with diverting, musical nothings, can be
Replaced with a love made clear, yearning to understand.
So what I ask of you,
Is that you'll promise yourself,
The kind, loving theorist and the wonderfully outlandish child
That you'll leave neither behind,
Cherishing the two forever
As you make your way through the maze
That is this life.
Doing a little project with observing people. I have two other people I want to write about. The guy in this one is just an obviously insanely complex person, so it was an easy one to start with even though I haven't quite figured out who he is yet.