I want to read every book that’s writtenhear every song that was sungI want to gaze at every cloudand hold the zing of each fruit on my tongue.

funny how our heartswere designed to loveso fiercely.but break ever so gently.

Do not turn me intorestless watersif you cannot promiseto be my stream.

when whisperedwhat an exquisitesong, it makes-your name.

my love is a winter’s mistgently dissolvingthrough the windowat the nape of your neck.

i have known yousince the beginningof timethe one i have loved alwaysin spirit.only just discoveredin person.

There is a moon,that rests in the quiet cornersof a lover’s lips.

When it comes to lovedo not eversettle for anythingless than magical.

You askif I will write a poemI could,I supposewrite the mostsplendiferousone of allbut notrightnownot whenyour handsare brewingwarmcinnamon teaacross my skinnot when I’mtrying to imaginewhat might happenif you beganfloweringkissesuponmeMy dear,how canI writea poemwhen I’m alreadyinside one?