What first struck me about you was the way you seemed to carry yourself.
I could spot your aura from a mile away.
The deepest purple I've ever seen.
I was intrigued.
And when I saw you smile for the first time,
It was infuriating.
Because it was summer nights and wild dancing and firefly catching and flushed cheeks and knowing glances-
And god, with that kind of smile, you knew it.
The truth is,
I don't even remember seeing you smile for the first time
But there's something so distinct about seeing something new, fresh happen
And that's how it is with you.
Always a first,
Always new.
It's terribly addicting.
When everything seems like a beginning
I assume it's easy to take your time,
You never seem to be running out of it.
You're never in any sort of
Rush.
To see anything.
Meet anyone.
As if you knew, they would all come
Running.
And they always did.
You came so easy to me. At first.
It was always
Easy laughter
Easy conversation
Easy smiles
Until you started looking me in the eyes. I'm not sure when I noticed, but by then everything had changed.
I wrote of you,
before I knew you.
I write of you now,
Because I know you.
I write of you now,
Using what I know.
What I've learned by heart.
Looking back, I don't think I even needed a map of your face, the sound of your laughter, or that shade of brown that probably only seems beautiful to me.
I think I have always written of you.
The face might change.
Your eyes,
May shine a different way,
A different color,
In the place of some other boy
None of which,
Have ever carried themselves
The way you do.
Nothing,
like a boy.
It's something else
I think I understand
Or at least
I'm trying to.
