In an ideal future,
I’ll have a
House near a river
By the mountains
Of Puerto Rico,
My own cafe
With amazing books
And ever greater
Baked goods,
But the lines
Get blurred
When I think of you.

You,
Angel of the fortunate,
Breathtaking and majestic,
Wearing beautifully woven
Sun kissed robes
That follow you
Like your shadow does,
Only the sweet scent
Of peaches and cream
Shapes you,
Divine as a Greek sculpture,
With a smile that stuns
And gives photographic memory
To whoever has held a
Four cloverleaf before.

I’ll hold your hand,
Walk down the path
Behind what we
Would call our home,
Suddenly the silence
Start to get deafened
By the sound of rushing
Water and leafs that
While dancing with
The breeze crumble
In your admiration.

As we sit on
Moonlight showered
Mossy stones,
I’ll find out,
I can’t seem to
Remember your name.
And while  the water
doesn't touch my feet,
ill get up to keep walking
until my nervous system
gives out and the burning stops
or I find you,
Whoever you are.
To show me how cold the water can be.