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Pensées de Lorenzo
A thousand kisses placed on lips of softness and warmth tell the story of your heartbeats. Your silky blonde hair hides your gentle face bearing a welcoming and familiar smile. Your imperfections echo in the void of my imagination and fill my whole heart with a warm and magical feeling that I refuse to name.

Your name is beauty, famously portrayed upon the canvas of a hundred works of art.

Shy, awkward and enchantingly unobtainable, forever there for me, forever busy and forever a dumb a**.

Questions~
Where are you?
Are you okay?
Do you know how much I need you?
Can I fall asleep with you tonight?
Can you tell me that I'm safe when you hold me tight?


Your the tiny ball of magic that fairies' talk about, the large and instrumental feeling that poets that talk about when they say that "love is in the air." Your every fault is perfection, your every invisible trait a mystery. Your every smile is a short and permanent breath of insoluble joy for the world.


Far away from me, across a million tides and thousands upon thousands of miles of blue skies between us. Dreamy, absent yet in my heart and on my mind.

How would I say it?
Je t'aime?

Or should I say it at all?

Surely, obviously, you must already know what you mean to me.





 
 
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