i have known you for years
and when i say years
i mean it feels
like eternities

i mean the sketches i have
tucked away in an old journal
feel like they were formed
in mountain ridges

i think the edges
of our friendship
are tucked away in the corners
of your favorite jacket

and are protected

from the harsh winds

of chance

i like looking through old
yearbooks
and of all the students throughout
history
never have i found one
like you

you are unique to those
who know you
and to those who don't

and yet those that don't
can't see how

your eyes
lower when you smile
but even
nightfall
couldn't dull their shine

your hands
grip
a sketchbook-
your child, i presume

your face
lights up
and becomes an autumn
sunset
when you remember
that thing you meant to say

but wait-

never mind

you calculated our reactions
and though i insist
you do not budge

but the
mischievous glint
remains

and i must ask

am i allowed...

is it okay if...

would you mind if i...

but i cannot
say

how being near you
overwhelms me
with this energy

perhaps

the warmth
will burn me
from the inside

and

perhaps

you will flash me
that smirk

and i will melt?

am melting?

have been melting?

i cannot explain except
that you are the reddish-gold
of crisp
air

you are
the
bubble
of
chills
in the crook
of my neck

i see you
in dreams

you don't act
like you would

but i know
it's you

i do not stand
a chance with you

i cannot
breathe
my heart
to you

i am afraid

you are

too

perfect

~

although

you

cannot

see

it