This may or may not be a love letter.
Sober, or less than, when someone tells you they kinda love you, not so easy to brush off. At least for me. With you.
For the record I was not angry. Upon further reflection...I was in fact frustrated at the very essence of being shaken and stirred. By no means angry. I wanted to tell you that. So you know.
I have thought similarly of you. This man, who admires me from a distance. Of whom fond thoughts have existed. Slightly removed, yet seemingly close, here we are, connected. Arguably.
So i write to you, for no other reason than i was compelled to do so.
And I shall write...and say hello. Send the tea. Proceed to carry onwards in my vision. I am building a dream.
For the people, the poets, I wish for us to seek and succumb to the deepest parts of the heart. To never settle. To know the pictures we paint are dreams worth craving. To trust we will live ourselves into the beautiful little imaginary world, suspended, if only for a moment, in it's hideaway. To be found. As life unfolds and we become. And as spoken poetically by a great, in a place where we dare to dream, where we dare to "live the questions now, to live everything".
One day, when our worlds collide in the realest of realness I shall meet this fascinating human. Until then I shall write. I shall dance into the future, of this beautiful life, with a happiness that burns. Showers blessings upon us. I shall wonder of you. From afar. Once removed from often. As you exist in the safe keeping of this heart, ringing fierce frequencies not intended for the moment. On a tilted horizon, where both sides of the sun set, and I may love you reasonably, removed of reason.
Be well. Write on. Drink tea.
Sober, or less than, when someone tells you they kinda love you, not so easy to brush off. At least for me. With you.
For the record I was not angry. Upon further reflection...I was in fact frustrated at the very essence of being shaken and stirred. By no means angry. I wanted to tell you that. So you know.
I have thought similarly of you. This man, who admires me from a distance. Of whom fond thoughts have existed. Slightly removed, yet seemingly close, here we are, connected. Arguably.
So i write to you, for no other reason than i was compelled to do so.
And I shall write...and say hello. Send the tea. Proceed to carry onwards in my vision. I am building a dream.
For the people, the poets, I wish for us to seek and succumb to the deepest parts of the heart. To never settle. To know the pictures we paint are dreams worth craving. To trust we will live ourselves into the beautiful little imaginary world, suspended, if only for a moment, in it's hideaway. To be found. As life unfolds and we become. And as spoken poetically by a great, in a place where we dare to dream, where we dare to "live the questions now, to live everything".
One day, when our worlds collide in the realest of realness I shall meet this fascinating human. Until then I shall write. I shall dance into the future, of this beautiful life, with a happiness that burns. Showers blessings upon us. I shall wonder of you. From afar. Once removed from often. As you exist in the safe keeping of this heart, ringing fierce frequencies not intended for the moment. On a tilted horizon, where both sides of the sun set, and I may love you reasonably, removed of reason.
Be well. Write on. Drink tea.
No comments:
Post a Comment