In love.

Why is it so beautiful to stare at him when he falls asleep? It doesn’t feel wrong. The idea of looking through him. Into him. Like I can tell the difference between the air and the air he breathes.

He belies the man within , when I am around .Juggling with things, humming funny tunes , ranting about his skating shoes. Moving around . Talking stuff.

Is it the long drive he is, on my mountain trip ? Or is it the summer he gives when I am raining snow from hell?

Freak! It is a freaking daylight. Freaking heaven. Freaking fun. One freaking something.

I break my worldly vows and travel to his forbidden land. Amidst the woods, beside a lake, with a campfire, a kettle, a travel tent, excited, befuddled and mad, would live our endless forgotten love.

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