It’s past time for me to lay down my guard, swallow my pride, and risk my heart. Maybe I’m the only one, but I’m completely ensorcelled by you. I believe you deserve to know that your presence is just… fantastic. Even on the clearest of nights, the varied hues that shine in those hazel eyes have more beauty than a sky full of stars. I don’t believe any combination of words could adequately express the awe-inspiring essence that you possess. As a result, my spirit erupts with delight for you, a burning energy with a touch akin to that of a firecracker. The mere notion of your touch transports me to “a galaxy far, far away,” and transports me to “a galaxy far, far away.” You set off an explosion inside of me, causing goosebumps to appear on the surface of my skin. I’m still obsessed with this high school infatuation seven years later. Despite the fact that I am no stranger to grief, I look at you with the purity of a heart that has never been tarnished.
Your presence has grown more entwined into the chapters of my life as the years have gone. I’m wondering whether you’ve ever come across my words and if you’ve read them with the same reverence as a Mike Posner poetry. You’re present in so many of my best memories. My cheeks are constantly flushed, whether I’m drinking by a fire or going downtown under the street lights. It’s not from the booze warming my insides, nor from the warmth of the fire, nor from the crisp air of a walk through the city lights at night. Your brilliant aura is responsible for the reoccurring glow on my cheeks.
Those starry nights, cozied up in heated seats, soaking in the vista through the lens of your sunroof; these are the moments when I find it difficult to catch my breath. Drawing on fogged windows with just the crimson glow of a recently rolled J to illuminate the hazy air as light. There are other reasons why I need to catch my breath, but your seductive spirit is the one thing that makes breathing difficult.
One of my favourite noises is your chuckle. My idea of heaven is waking up in your arms. I’m a hopeless loyalist who can’t seem to find the words to express myself. You send rippling vibrations of butterflies fluttering through my spirit when you pluck on my heartstrings as you do on your guitar.
To put it succinctly, “If you ever want to be in love, I’ll come around,” as someone put it.
Next blog will be out soon.
Desai Thoughts MEdia.
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