I shouldn’t have tried to be the voice in your head when what I wanted was to be the beating of your heart.

You’re the book I’d take to a desert island.

You’re the first person who pops into my head when I learn something new.

When something moves me I know you already know it and it moved you too.

The only thing better than being in a room with you and making eye contact to share a thought was feeling you look at me to connect and not giving you the satisfaction, just to keep you on your toes.

I knew. I saw you out of the corner of my eye watching me.

Why does everything have to be romantic? I told you once how I searched for the right word. What would Aristotle say? Or Keats? Whitman? Joni?

Since they gave no answers, I’ll venture a guess. Some mysteries are delicious. And answers don’t always bring peace. Just periods at the end of a sentence.

You are a phrase I never want to close

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