I saw the way you smiled at me
last Saturday.
At least, I think it was Saturday,
it may have been Friday
or Monday
or any day I saw you-
my thoughts are a bit jumbled.
Your mouth was full of words
that I have heard many a time,
but for some reason,
those words had a different meaning
than they had before.
I decided to stay quiet
about everything that bugs me
about you
and instead focus
on the bits
that make me smile,
because trust me
there are a lot of things
about you
that
I
love.
But that's not what I'm trying
to talk about here.
I want to talk about how
my words fit perfectly in my mouth
until I decide to say them,
at which point
they can never fit back.
I want to talk about how you
fit perfectly in my arms
until I let you go
and then you never seem to fit
the same way you did before
because something about you
is constantly changing.
It seems as though
everything about you
and everything about me
is jumbled.
It sort of reminds me of how
grains of sand on a beach
are all different shapes
and materials
but they form as one cohesive
"sand."
So how does that sound?
We're like grains of sand
on a beach,
or like a mismatched Rubik's cube,
all different bits and colors
and feelings
and memories,
but we're still
one being
each.
And maybe together,
we can be almost like one,
intertwining stories
and
growing into each other
instead of just growing
side-by-side.
And that
would give me yet another thing
to love about you.
