A pretty flower for a pretty face. Oh how I wonder where you go during my days. To the museums you adore. To gardens and to the sea shores. Wherever you go. I'll find a pretty flower for your pretty face. A garden for every summer I remember you. And silently smile.

I once said that people have atmosphere's within them. Worlds in their eyes. And a massive collection of fireworks on their tongues. And I once wanted to have her atmosphere to make it rain within me. I wanted her comfortable nights to coincide with my anxious days. And I wanted to feel the slow explosions on my tongue. I wanted her. Not for how cute she is. Not for how lovely she is every day to everyone around her. For the smiles I earn. For that tiny grin that assures me for a few nanoseconds that I do have a reason for being here.