April 26, 2005


I think I’ll start
scribbling some lines
about you
every day –

lines about you,
inspired by you,
and scrawled across
the empty lined page
of my notebook
for you;

because I feel happy
seeing the penciled lines
word by word,
because I am thinking of you
in every line that materializes,
because these lines make me feel
so giddy
with adoration,
and so snuggly
with affection
for you.

At the beginning of each line,
my pencil pauses
as the your image dawns in my mind
like the emerging sun at daybreak,
smiling ever so warmly at me;
and as I end each line,
the sunbeam of your smile
is replaced by
the twinkle of your eyes,
brilliant stars at nightfall.

All right,
so I’ve been told
I am infatuated
with the image of you –
an image I’d created
of you -
and not really
with you
the living, breathing
warm body of you;

but – you know what? –
I’ll never get as close
to you
than to you in my mind
who inspired these lines
about you,
never feel closer
to you
than through these lines
jotted down in pencil
on this lined page
for you.


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