You are perfect. You feel so right in conversaion and in touch. Intelligent, creative, never a bore. You and I can see the clouds animate themselves, take a moment for a kiss, then delight in the new surprise in the sky.
We'll envy the lucky ones across the lake. The ones with the patch of sun peeking through the clouds to brighten their spot on the hillside. Our turn in the spotlight will come if we lay tangled perfectly together.
I opened to you, closed and alone for far too much time... welcomed you inside and in return you taught me how to feel again. This revival made me feel alive. Just when I was certain everything had died.
You are perfect. I'm afraid to talk to you now that circumstances keep us apart. I can't call. I can't write. Just thinking about how perfect you are. Little dreams at night give glimpses of you by my side. If I could talk to you, I'd tell you the things we do. But you are perfect. And I can't talk to you. I like dreaming better... because in dreams, you are mine.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
For you
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1 comment:
Yes, it's one of those experiences when the person touches you just at the right times, in the right ways. They look at you, right into, just when you need them to. You spoon each other perfectly, your hand fits naturally and perfectly into theirs. They apply just the right amount of pressure to your skin. They feel, smell and taste like home. These experiences are actually the most terrifying ones of all.
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