state street.
sunny day.
wind nowhere close to hair friendly.
loud conversations.
hustle and bustle.
and your hand.
simple grasped around mine.
so simple.
but so beautiful.
i know,
it's what couples are supposed to do.
hold hands.
but when i hold hands with you,
i feel like i'm on top of the world.
the way your fingers brush my palm
how their warmth travels all
the way down to my toes.
and i love how i search for it,
always knowing it's just waiting
to be found.
sometimes you let go, but only so
your hand can snake around my waist.
we stumble along.
not the most graceful.
but i smile as my arm wraps around you.
you squeeze and i squeeze back.
it's just like all of those
cheesy, romantic, ***** worthy movies
but only a million times better.

because it's all real.
in another life i would say
it was a dream.
but, as the sun went down
the oranges and pinks bleeding all over the clouds
the guitar strings strumming
the cry of barely sober men tripping into buildings
the tickle of the breeze as it caught my hair in
a never ending tango.

the moment your lips brushed upon mine,
i knew no dream could ever compare