when you walk, the ocean follows, not as a copycat but out of pure admiration of something so beautiful
the wind wishes it could recreate the way your voice sounds in the stillness of the dark
the trees watch you through the myriad of their leaves and believe that one day, they will looks as elegant as you but they will have to try
the silhouettes of the mountains stretch themselves to be noticed just at the mere thought of you passing by.
and to think, i get to sit by you and know the secrets of your hand against mine.