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Kewayne Wadley Aug 2018
I don't consider you a friend because of how many times you cross my mind.
Nor because of the times we don't mention.
I don't consider myself in love because of the things we do to each other behind closed doors.

Open doors or in-between doors.
I consider you my equal because of the philosophy we share.
All without making a sound.

The love we have that naturally reacts with a vocal notion of it's own.
We don't have to be around each other to explore the things that aren't said.
A vocal assurance that I do indeed mean what I say.

We are both the ugliest kind of beautiful our laughs being the ice breaker
for all that we share.
The tears elapsed from laughing too hard.

No I don't consider you a friend, or a lover because of how much I'll miss you when your gone.
No I don't want to be near you just because of a single thought.

Nor because of the way you make me feel.
You'll always be with me.
Sharing our ugliest kind of beautiful
Kewayne Wadley Aug 2018
Loving you is like going on vacation without any money.
Away from all the tourist attractions.
The best views all in walking distance.
The places no-one likes to go alone.
My heart no longer my own.
Following where ever you go.
With legs of its own.
It runs like a teenager,
Street after street .
Making faces, having fun.
Your voice a constant favorite heard on station after station.
My heart jerking in place, smiling.
Dancing to the sound.
Loving you is like going somewhere new.
Welcomed by friendly faces.
Shown the sights left off travel brochures, travel channels.
Loving you is a constant  happy hour.
Strawberry & Mango margaritas on the house.
Loving you, being my favorite part
Kewayne Wadley Aug 2018
I love you to pieces.
All of you being my favorite.
After a long day, I look forward to seeing you.
Being around you.
I constantly loose myself in your eyes.
Every moment with you a blessing.
Whether it's early in the morning
Or late at night.
I love every moment.
My chocolate peanut butter craving starts and ends with you.
I can't help but smile.
Thankful that your not wrapped in tin foil.
A moment of trust easily accessible.
By far the greatest gift I could ever receive.
I accept all of you.
Delectable pieces poured into my hands.
Sensually sharing hidden parts of ourselves.
Every inch uncovered beneath coated chocolate.
Creamy peanut butter.
Soon melted away by tastes desire.
It's practical to see why I have to call in sick.
Spending all my time with you.
Your taste still on my lips.
Stomach still aching.
My chocolate peanut butter craving.
Thank you for being you
Kewayne Wadley Aug 2018
With so little time I could not decide.
Shelf after shelf filled with book upon book.
The likes I've dreamed of reading.
Most bookstores have there signs posted.
Opening and closing time.
But this, this was something out of the ordinary.
Not a soul wandering through the isles.
No checkout line.
It was intimate.
Being here alone surrounded by book after book.
Each with a cover beautifully drawn.
Genres of insecurities, dreams, ambitions.
Love.
Any spot on the floor felt like home.
Addressing myself in total seclusion.
Mornings spent in thought embraced by the cold air flowing through the vents.
Afternoons spent without a thing to do.
The nights when a pillow was the only comfort, drifting off to sleep.
Slow rather than fast.
I flipped through page after page.
Wandering from isle to isle undecided in which book I wanted to read first.
Eying the shelves one at a time.
Finding the beauty in what makes you, you.
The marked on pages.
The distraught covers.
With so little time I didn't want to spend every second over-thinking.
Analyzing exactly which stood out the most.
When in actuality.
They all are a part of you
Kewayne Wadley Aug 2018
My love for you isn't just a feeling.
It's a civilization.
It's a group formed in unorganized noise.
A commotion of expression purposely existing
the sole purpose of you.
Living & breathing.
A jumbled language overheard.
Stenciled with each patter of foot.
Every horn honked.
Each lane clogged with the thought of you.
A foundation built from the ground up
in means to explore.
A stone age modernized.
Misinterpreted by the desire of fire.
Protected.
Built upon.
Built into the tallest building, which I call your name.
My love for you is like the plane that flies overhead.
Roaring loud in repetition.
Tedious nooks & crannies.
Places to shop, things to see.
All the things I see when I look into your eyes.
My love for you a province of sorts.
The smell seared in a pan. Best served on a plate for two.
A mix of different pastas, vegetables.
Fried in upbeat cafe, different aromas.
The chit chat different versions of me.
Complimenting the very essence of you.
A new building erected with cranes and steel beams.
Plastered dry wall.
Soon opened for your arrival
Kewayne Wadley Aug 2018
When does our weekend begin
Time flies in contemplation.
The day ends, quick to start.
Belittling how the nights are not the same.
Caught in thought.
The laughs that start soon as I see you.
Things that occupy time until the next time.
Again becoming a past time.
The season changes in a matter of days.
The weekend still so far.
The human heart a mystery.
Full of affection. Restrained throughout the week.
Fond with anticipation.
To see you, to feel you.
The embrace of like minds melting in the torch of where we dwell most.
The week becoming longer and longer.
When can my heart beat it's fullest.
Running away with every throb.
Taking you further and further away from where we have to come back.
When does our weekend begin.
Holiday included, extended weekend.
Seeing you smile.
The weekend is near
Kewayne Wadley Aug 2018
Some of the best smiles happen at the most random moment.
Coming quick, fast.
Out of the blue.
Our lips burst and expose this wonderful happening.
Motivation to take the next step of all we carry.
The things we keep hidden.
It often comes effortless, a sort of spoken word expressed only by face.
A sensual proverb foretold by kings and queens.
Humble by nature.
The clouds pass without strife.
Forever inspired by what sets their soul a blaze in the remedy of patience.
Inherited by the same spontaneous moment we smile.
The sun isn't always dictated with an upward look.
Sometimes it just happens to be where you are.
At the part of your lips.
Unconditionally given
Kewayne Wadley Aug 2018
Late night
The lights turned low.
Nowhere to go.
Moments spent with you,
Laughing, tripping.
Sunk in satisfaction.
Another moment spent with you nowhere to go.
A night in ,
Arms lax, legs spread.
The chronicles of knowing where to find you.
Kicked back, vibing.
Random conversations followed by sensual voice.
About life. Something more than what compliments the eye.
Past relationships brought out the blue.
What makes you smile, the things you hope to accomplish.
The feeling is dope.
The temptation of again near.
Not much to say,
Head laid in your lap.
Remote on the floor.
Eventually one of us has to move.
More than friends caught on a late night.
How we feel no longer played off.
Somewhere we can meet that's more private.
Caught between commercials.
Put to sleep, the couch single witness.
The creaks put to rest.
Our motion slows.
Shadows come to rest.
Remote still on the floor,
The night no longer young.
The lights low with you in my arms.
Kewayne Wadley Aug 2018
I am crushing on you.
Constantly looking for the next time I see you.
Genuinely gathering the butterflies without further notice.
Curiously fluttering.
Stopping to rest but a moment.
Comfortably anxious.
Revealing jitters at the most intimate time.
At the slightest touch, noticing how fast time actually flies.
Bypassing the excitement of having you here.
The way you switch when you walk.
The way your voice gets lower easing into comfort.
The subtle gestures that come naturally.
Our lips in pause, hearts racing to catch up.
A coke drips in condensation.
Rolling faster down the side.
Refusing to slow down.
Sipped slow, quenching thirst.
Crushing the can in satisfaction.
On a day like today water won't do.
I need something stronger.
Something sweeter.
Coke bottle shaped and a smile.
I need you
Kewayne Wadley Aug 2018
And I have this strange feeling.
Memories of us,
Margaritas sipped slow.
Comcast commercials played on repeat.
The weather mild.
First in line.
Patiently waiting to board a flight
Without need for debit card.
Inspired by the look in each other's eyes.
Beats by Dre sponsored by the throb of hearts.
Wandering the gap between songs.
We sip, no longer the ones that got away.
Our silent trips planned moments in advance.
This strange feeling soaring over patio tables, beaches.
Flying away with you in mind body soul.
The many oceans to come.
Highlighting the glare that reflects off our window.
This strange feeling
Becoming more and more familiar
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