People either think in words or images.
I'm addicted to this idea and ask everyone I know what they see in their heads.
You say your mind is a machine of memories-like a movie projector on a theater screen. I am immensely jealous. My mind is mostly text over a blurry image. The more I try to focus the more distorted the image becomes like a body of water that ripples after being touched. What would it be like to see you again in full clarity? I miss your distinct eyebrow raises with a pairing gleam in your eyes. I could recognize your face in a crowd with my eyes but I could never differentiate your presence from any other person in my mind.
YOU ARE READING
Limerence (Poetry)
Poetry"Bumblebee: I wonder if you will still love me when I protect myself and sting." Started: 8/20/20 Completed: 10/18/21 My 7th poetry book.
