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Willing to...


Honestly,

I'm kind of speechless. Not that I don't have anything to say. It's just that I've been too busy smiling or laughing. Seriously, I've probably laughed more in the last week because of her than I have in months.

She's "my good feeling". She is all things I never knew I wanted in another. And the things I knew I wanted as well :). She's like a dream for this James Dean wannabe...

I once had a dream long ago. In this dream, I'm in a crowded ballroom. I'm surrounded by group of people who enthralled with my every word and gesture. I'm entertaining them with banter, and all of a sudden, I catch something from the corner of my eye. I turn my head slowly to my left and she's there. On the opposite side of this gigantic ballroom, she's there looking right back. She's surrounded just as I by people transfixed by her beauty and vying for her attention. But we stare into each other eyes and there is nothing between us. The world pauses and fades to gray and we are vibrant color. Everything hangs in the air between us like debris before a flashlight. Then simultaneously and leisurely, we raise our hands toward each other and grasp at the air. Confused, we glance at our hands then back at each other. Across that spacious room, we don't understand why our fingers aren't intertwined when we feel only breaths apart.

I knew I would meet this woman, but I never expected she would see me first. But she did. Looking back, I could feel it though. All the while I was running around working on art shows and poetry, my heart was keeping a secret waiting to be whispered.

I could go on for days on the reasons I call her lovely. Her smile, her humor, her eyes, her style, her body, her words, her skin, her laugh, her robot dance with soul.

And I'm terrified. But then again, she makes Everest seem doable. She makes bullets seem dodge-able. She makes the past seem acceptable. She makes true love seem real.

And she makes me want to be the greatest artist ever...

So be it.

<|3




PS - She paints me blue.

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it flickers you stare at the space where the fire meets the wick the invisible halo that crowns the candle and it flickers and you realize your skin can't stand to be touched by another it flickers and you remember the nights she held onto you and you thought she would never let go it flickers even if it burns it flickers you stare and swear that space is portal you could reach through and caress HER skin if only the fire was big enough and it wouldn't flicker like a paint chipped window shutter in an Oklahoma twister you heart becomes a tease no longer protecting the pane threatening to shatter and let in the rain soaking the pictures it flickers because there's not enough oxygen because there's too many people in this room and it flickers and you wonder