everyone becomes beautiful when i think of them as you.
you, as an old man staring out of the window.
you, as the child, loudly asking questions in the train.
you, in the shade of this god forsaken overly romanticized tree.
you, the disgruntled bank employee
you, the pretentious film maker
i can only manage to love you; shades of you; traits of you.
luckily, i manage to find you in everything.
maybe because im only thinking of you.
