When love is in the air you must capture it before it moves like a breeze in the wind.
I framed kisses, hand written letters, stuffed animals, and tender hugs with tough nails and sturdy oak.
Couples pass me walking hand in hand.
Alone, I sit on the bench next to scattered dried leaves.
Squirels run from tree to tree, anxious and hesitant trying to
past from one side of the pathway to the other, amusing little creatures...
The last time I spoke to him I was a teenager, naive and dumb.
He was perfect. Back then, you could stay on the phone for hours when words fell in realtime.
I haven't been able to take another snapshot like that again.
It's been years..highschools rivals have become requested facebook friends who I sometimes accept.
Former friends wedding rings are plastered on my
timeline, so many perfect poloarids, the closest I had been to a wedding.
Love is a thousand words.
I yearn for the type of love language that
accentuates the O's and E's, the sound and the end.
I yearn for the type of love that stretches across the week and eases in on Sunday morning.
Love is in the air.
I hang on to the chance that I will be
able to capture the very same letters that left me.
One day, I'll be able to capture the chemsitry between I and U.
But, I understand that love comes and goes, the breezes in the wind don't come often, they leave leaving me
with the aftertaste of a still day.
Love is a thousand words