Some days I see myself outbound like an 80's movie...
living life day by day, wondering what lays ahead of the play.
I love life, because of the good and bad, but off course, bad things can't cut it, but we have to get what's bad to get the greater things in life.

No, no silly, i' am not talking about politics, or the crap happening right now...but the adventures in our personal lives that we go through every single day.

Being with you tonight was like two fishes who swam together in lovers hearts, synchronized in nostalgia.
When we lock eyes, emotions spur into greatness.

You held my hand as we walked underneath the starry night, so quiet and dark, playing hide and seek around the truck parked in the front yard, and as i looked back at you, we swung a hug in each other's warm arms along with a never forgotten kiss.

Your kisses, one by one, are always cherished and never forgotten...also when you're leaving to go home, i take a photograph of your lips in my mind, how they feel pressed against mine.

As I walk underneath the pear tree nd lights flashing underneath from the garden below shining unto my minty laced robe of satin, catching your eyes once again on mine in a new pictured memoir.

I love nostalgia, who doesn't?
it helps you feel like you belong...
when no one else is there to help sing your song.

I have been a day dreamer since a youngling, and will always
continue to do so throughout my living days.
happiness comes through dreams,
and when you believe in those dreams
you can really see
your true
reality.

i close my eyes
and can’t help but wonder

who had helped Him
create you?

Did Michelangelo help Him design your face from stone and etch your beautiful imperfections into your caramel colored flesh?

Was it Raphael who decided that honey was too beautiful and decadent a substance to be left only for edible indulgence, and allowed you to have pools of golden honey for eyes?

Who better than Titan to pull from the clouds, and the water whom then MUST have pulled inspiration from silk when allowing your skin and hair to be as soft as the robes I wear to bed with you.

I wonder when He called Leonardo Da Vinci in? Was it when he decided that you were going to be beautiful? Or when He decided you’d be intelligent, or when He decided you’d be kind?

I close my eyes and wonder, did they help Him create such a work of art in hopes that you’d be mine?


After all,

I close my eyes

and dream

of those whimsical, renaissance skies.