To my nose she was a stick of incense.
Filling me whole, her eyes.
The ashes fell,
Spacing her walk.
With smoke closely trailing.
The sun quickly set.
There's no where in the world I'd rather be.
An empty room filled by you.
A hint of spice mixed with something sweet.
The steadiness of warmth no matter day or night.
To relax and fall into deep sleep.
The smoke dancing through my dreams
In wait to be lit again

Since I saw you,
I've had this hope live in me.
That everything that isn't needed be gone.
The details of sales papers, shopping carts.
The ease of temptation.
Standing still.
To fill my cart full of things I don't need.
Coffee rings, free samples.
The debris of reality.
Strings and paper slings around baked goods.
Shopping around facedown.
Pushing the cart row after row.
The things on sale.
The pings of the register.
Splints that aren't necessarily the object we've come face to face with.
Jamaican ***.
Our fingerprints used in vain
The residue from coffee pots and things we've touched.
Bottled, sealed tight.
Fresh water springs.
Still we pursue.
I pursue.
Your carefree sensibility.
I've walked every row in search.
Where have you gone,
Withdrawn

I loved the honesty.
Netflix, chill then what.
I'd love to unfold you all night.
A reiteration of
Laying on our backs
No longer hesitant.
No longer ignorant.
Transcending the labels we both  keep inside.
Suggesting that there's more to appearance.
Standing in the chills of liberation.
We soon were caught in
Organized noise
Lost in flims of smoke
All night long.
Shall we roll another or two.
If I told you right then whose wrong,
Two separate interpretations.
Each to send tremors of truth of what's really happened.
Netflix waits in response
Mahogany fingertips.
Intellectual stimulation.
**** I forgot errythang I was supposed to be doing.
I concur wholeheartedly with this unexpected attraction.
The television a distraction.
Current circumstances.
Thinking about you
Open invitation

When I walked in I didn't know what to expect.
Each room highlighted in light.
A oral tradition. To make ourselves at home upon request.
In reciprocation we do.
The rooms we gather in, the ones we walk past.
The objects we fill to take up space.
The rooms a clear reflection of Spring.
The molding painted white.
I was told that some rooms are not to be visited.
Everything has it's season and this isn't one of them.
Placing blame on the rooms.
I want to explore them most I said.
The ones that go unseen.
The things we rarely shine light to.
The places films of dust continue to grow.
These are some of the best places to go.
The beauty of things we walk past day to day.
The smile unknown destinations can bring.
Cultivating the ideas we keep cluttered.
Gasping for air.
These are the rooms I want to explore most.
The parts of you that you strictly keep to yourself.
Only when you are comfortable to share these rooms with me.
To kiss the floor with our feet.
To dwell in the past staring into our future.
We are the pendulums trapped inside the clock

And Like that.
I had this overwhelming urge.
I don't know what came over me.
I asked God is this the route I should take.
This habit of association.
To **** out what may seem to be selfish.
Time is of the essence.
This illusion of what is definite or what may not be.
Certainly this proclamation arrived out of nowhere.
Again I asked.
Notating my lack of patience.
I found the choir of mind without direction.
They stood and hummed.
Some in que.
Others were all over the place.
Without a podium or overreaction to the problem.

Amen, acknowledging your grace.
This aura highlighting sudden fixation.
I sought guidence.
Leaving the trail Whince I came.
I felt pain in my rib.
A spiritual curriculum decided by what's missing.
Again I asked.
More left to the imagination
A reiteration of urge.
The potency of silence.
Engaged by a look.
I understood what the choir was saying

I've never been very good at listening.
I imagine that I resonate with a piece of you that reminds me of the same piece of me.
When I come face to face with this piece.
I realize that not everything can be changed.
That's what makes it important.
Otherwise the urge to speak would never come.
Realizing this occurrence,
It becomes familar.
Not once does fear strike.
All in all there's no interruption.
The well being of ourselves.
The very things that no matter what, we tend to recognize.
No matter the grief.
And like that very thing I become a child.
Not realizing the meaning of being alive.
Within these moments I turn to you for guidance.
I look up and realize a stubbornness.

I admit.
I've never been good at listening.
Although I vocalize the feeling.
We go through extreme measures when the appearance isn't quite right.
In light of innocence I am struck time and time again.
The lashings of what I'll always believe.
It becomes excessive.
Coming into contact with this same piece of me that I have found in you.
That no matter the argument.
We understand that there is an accord that cannot be ignored.
We live in a state where this paradox becomes conscious.
Separating what is right, as well as wrong.
At times we may disagree, proving in these times that it takes growth to be heard.
And I have heard you this whole time.
This piece of me that has fallen in love with every piece of you.
Both stubborn and impatient

Nothing is ever time wasted,
just the interlude to the rest of the album. Soon it becomes nostalgia. To think you almost pressed the skip button..
It's all about trying new things.
Slowing were briding the gap.
Looping untold tales of blues and jazz into our samples.
The things considered classical.
Instant vintage.
The things we keep hidden in headphones,
The venerability of hype.
It's always about the crowd.
Afraid to digest something different.
This was the first time I met her.
At first I laughed,
Reaction that I faced my own ignorance.
Listening again finding purpose.
Not knowing that we'd come to spend the rest of our lives together.
All three minutes and forty five seconds.
I was dishonest.
Not revealing anything real about myself until I heard it for the first time.
The first time she sung.
Music.
This wasn't an image to be upheld in front of others.
Or the gossip type spread circle to circle.
I was never exposed to this.
Skimming the top layer ready to press next.
Too far caught in the slander that first impressions can give.
History often repeats itself but this wasn't the case.
This was wholeheartedly the epitome of how she effected me.
The rhythm of how she moved.
How she spoke.
Like that I matured almost instantly.
She became my biggest influence.
A two way street that bridged the gap of my own ignorance.
After time I began to leave my headphones on the dresser.
We were amplified.
She'd follow me everywhere just as I'd follow her.
Soon it caught on to the masses.
Each and every thought became a publicist of what she'd recite over and over again.
A parental advisory issued with every cover.
Finding the one became a catalog.
Stumbling back to the first interlude all over again.
The copyright not for sell

I laid across your heart like a bed.
Secure, soaring through the air.
Goodbye to the linen I left back at home.
Stuck in an room.
I felt at ease.
My back falling splat into comfort.
An endless supply of sheets.
Laying in complete peace.
My every woe.
My every ache.
Thereby at the door.
There's nothing outside this moment.
Soon I will be sleep.
That's all left to do.
Snore.
A dream closer than the eye.
Sandman.
Stay where you are.
Away from me and my cache
made of heart.
I hope you don't mind that I've laid here.
Contouring to your every shape.
To lay away in this elation I have towards you.
I hope to catch more than a decent sleep.
My neck twisted left.
In a deep sleep in the contours of your heart

You held everything together when it seemed everything was crumbling down.
If it's any consultation I'll be the first to admit.
I miss you with everything I have in me.
It's not that beautiful face or the body that accompanies it.
It's those huge eyes that I could stare into forever.
With all the time we've spent with each other.

As the time we spend far from each other.
I miss the goofy big haired girl that always made me laugh.

The wit to fall in love with someone like me.

The things I reveal in braille.

You took every part of me and wore me with your look.

Your fashionista sensibility.

You make the simplest of anything that much better.

I grew accustom to those moments.
The moments I never sought in anyone else.
I could never look at anyone the way I looked at you.

Eccentric and fun.

A model that rips the runway of my eye.
A pretty face that made every idea that much brighter.
It was always the sincerity of how you looked at everything.
From your hair.
Your smile.
I miss that.
The precious feeling when I'd hold you in my arms.
The need to protect something as precious as you.
Life makes the simplest of anything complicated.
I sought to protect and cherish you with everything I have.
My heart in love with everything you are.
You irk me, you irritate me. You press my every right button.
Most of all I could never look at another woman the way that I've looked at you.
The reasons I miss you, that I love you so.
You changed my perspective of what love is.
I irritate you for the beauty found in those moments.

To miss a flight and spend just a second more.
Forgetting the public eye, to fade off.

The things we keep between you and I.
Your sense of humor.
Your tongue against the side of my neck.
We've shared pieces of ourselves that I know deep down we wish we could take back.
But all the money in the world couldn't make any other moment that more important.
Pride aside, I left the best part of me with you.
If I could do it all again I wouldn't change a thing.
You inspire me without solemn apology.
Because of you I am different.
The quality of how special you are.
Deep down I crumbled.
You inspired me to find the beauty in the rubble

Not until steping closer.
I realized that I was in the palm of your hand.
I left my parachute without regret,
Moving one step closer staring down.
I deeply wanted to understand how free love was.
Standing here,
Realizing how high up everything really is.
Your palm sustaining my weight.
I wasn't at all anixous.
Now thinking that the wind could have shifted me forward before time.
Constantly aware that at any moment.
I will close my eyes and lean forward.
Pass the ridges of pants and tile floor.
Leaving behind everything I knew best.
My comfort zone.
This was me falling in love.
This was me overcoming my fear of heights
Forever in debt to the strength of your hand