They stare into me and bring the cosmos forth;
eyes full of romantic composition,
like an arrow aimed directly,
half-moon and true,
I surrender without pause,
I am attracted to laughter,
to words that reach beyond measure–
I won’t lie,
I am grateful for bouquet of words
and candor that stains lips with roseate hue.
I was lost between pages.
I cannot deny the freedom I feel during conversation;
as curtains lift themselves
and thoughts run free in meadows,
a mass of daffodils,
that sing of fire and blossoming against all odds,
is it just me
or does the feeling make sense–
I admit, the idea of stealing his breath crossed my mind.
And now elegant red burgundies flow from voice;
he is music
that soothes the soul and promises me rain,
so much of the world has drowned
in chaos and mayhem,
it’s a relief to find someone that comprehends ache,
olive skin that harmonizes silence,
it pains me not to flirt with him.
Do you see him, tell me do you also feel
that he is somewhat different?
He sifts darkness with hands in his pockets
and never complains in return,
that matches mine in ways one cannot explain,
I am of the opinion
that the universe is out to tell me something.
Only time will tell.
Photo credits: Suitor. Figure with Bouquet by Thorvald Hellesen