my thoughts alone
your eyes are like a beautiful dream
and I love to see you smile

what are you really searching for
you’ve told me
but I’m still wondering

wouldn’t it have been nice if we’d met at a different place, a different time, different circumstances,
I love to look into your eyes
There seem to be so many little secrets
Your unwillingness to share only increases my curiosity
What was it, what is it that make your eyes, your beautiful eyes seem so sad

I love to hold your hand
And I love to touch you
Touches soft and intimate
It surprises me because of the short time that we’ve known each other
Yet the moments without words seem so familiar, so recognized, it’s as though we have this strange need for… something
And in our search we happened upon each other

I love to kiss you
Your lips appeal to me
Seeing the words form as you speak
Or feeling them against mine excite me
I am nervous and juvenile when I’m near you
These feelings I experience because I can’t truly say what I’d like to or do the things I want because I feel they’d be inappropriate or unwanted or just not right

So I’ll write

I’ll write and you’ll know how I feel when you read my words of emotion toward you
I’ll keep writing until I can say or do the things I want to or until there’s no longer any need
The mystery solved, the newness old, the excitement dull, and the beautiful dream of potential and possibility lays awake and aware in the pale unflattering light of the morning