she would look at me like I had stars in my eyes
though I know not why, what I love is what I know
you see I love rustic hills, forgotten and still
i love breathing nothingness in, out the quiet, and the ease
i love freshly cut grass and forest meadows never meant to be tamed
i love the snapping fish most talkative and the slim bodies of waters beneath grasping trees
i love he quiet sky above the 3 a.m. streets
and the flickering candlelight whispering things
and above all of these things I hope not to love, is me
though that choice is a which I do heartily admire
and give it still my most willingness forward
if you'll see and let me also see
please do