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I Think About You, A Lot

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Dear you-whoever you may be- I think about you a lot. I like to picture you snuggling next to me in bed right before I fall asleep; your hands around my waist and your soft, even breath on the back of my neck. The heat emanating from your body lulling me to sleep. Your quiet snores are in sync with my heartbeat and your legs tangled under the sheets with mine. As my eyelids droop I could still picture the perfect symmetry of your body. Each slope and curve and depth. No longer a solid shape, no permanent consistency, but more vividly, more alive than ever before. The feeling of content and peace prevails.

You burst through my ribs as a flower in bloom.
Bury your roots in the core of my body.
Wrap around my spine like vines.
I am addicted to your scent.

You surround all of me, and yet, when I open my eyes eagerly ready to see you once again in the morning light, you're gone. Vanished. The greatest magic trick I've come across.

We'd spoken the words; words of love, words of commitment in the evening shadows. Words that could never hold up in the light of day.

So I close my eyes and I imagine you again. And you are reborn once again, resurrected. I smile and say "You-whoever you may be- I think about you, a lot."



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