your hands were a wool glove over mine.
and i think, “these are the beautiful hands that type to me…
that hold me together all day.”
i sometimes get an urge to seek advice about you,
but then i realize no one knows anyone like you,
and nothing has ever felt like tonight.
i talk to you all night in my head about
how if you were here we’d lay silent in bed.
my voice has been perfectly designed to speak to you.
i know that separated crushes are the reason for the blue in the sky
and i think it’s amazing that you exist.
and because you exist
i think everything else is amazing too.
i like the way your eyes look when they’re lit up in the lights,
and i like the way my life looks when it’s lit up by your eyes.
my favorite time to look at you
is when you’re looking at something else beautiful.
take me to the museum and show me what leaves you speechless.
we’ll not talk about it together.
i’m so attracted to you i hardly notice what i’m leaving behind.
and sometimes you do little things that i’ve never seen anyone else do
and they may not seem that important but they make me feel alive.
i buy books older than my dreams
and place them gently on shelves beside seashells I found seaside as a child,
and i’ll remember your touch for days and weeks and months.
and when i wake up in the middle of the night
i stay awake just long enough to think of you,
and i think that sums it up.