A budding writer's collection

Hey, you

This starry night is beautiful, isn't it?

I hope you can see it where you're at,

And I hope my longing for you reaches you now

The calendar and its countless days are exhausting me,

When can I sit under this polka-dotted wonder,

With your arms around me?

Can you feel this invisible current?

It has a certain music to it

It's alluring, lend your ears to it

Are your eyes flooded with vague shapes when they're shut?

Do those shapes feel like me?

Trust your intuition, the rope between us seems shorter.

Do you laugh at the same jokes I do,

Do the stories that warm my heart speak to you, too?

Are we connected by the music we listen to?

Is the bug in our ear singing our heart's truth?

Tell me, love, do you write about these mundane things?

Tell me about your morning coffee,

Is it three cubes or none,

Is it frothy with milk,

Or black to contrast your vibrance?

Do you take a stroll as the sun waves goodbye,

Do the plants strip their hearts for you?

Do you smile at every stray dog,

And make funny faces at the kids you come across?

Don't be an enigma to me, please no more

My life is riddled with puzzles, be my solution

Seek me as hard as I'm seeking you,

Don't you long for a head that fits the crook of your shoulder?