Glitter

Do you know what it is that you do to me? Cause I sure as hell don’t. I can’t quite figure out whether it’s the story in your eyes that communicate through your gaze, the captivating sparkle in the windows to your soul. It’s as if you polished them perfectly for me to peer into. And the pieces I have discovered are not everyday findings but treasures that others have searched and searched for and had come to find failures instead. I don’t know whether to boast it to the world or keep it to my humble self and embrace it behind the closed doors of my own soul.  But oh the world can be such a nasty place and the beauty can be lost in translation through our everyday lives of daily complaints and obligations we take zero pride in doing. So maybe, if I were to share the subliminal splendor of your enchanting soul- the world would be a better place. And with the world being a better place we would call it ours. And those obligations would turn into moments to get to the future’s memories.  And every day we would accomplish three impossibilities before the sun found itself in the west.  And at night we would lie in tangled limbs of love on feather pillows and fluffy mattresses. And the fear of growing old would disintegrate with only the glitter left of the thought of growing old with you.