May 11th

K. I'll tell you straight up. 

This? This. Is. A. Love. Poem. 

The way 

The way all the radio can do is make me think of you. 

The way we've never kissed. 

The way she feels "love" is the biggest four letter word. 

The way her lips meet resistance when she wants to say "love."

The way she translates my heart throbs into penstrokes. 

The way her hair falls over her face. 

The way she carries her identity lighter than air. 

The way we click better than the hands of a clock. 

The way we mesh better than gears. 

The way we write our hearts to each other. 

You are an empty highway

In a flaming sunset. 

43 days left. 

Clock hands are forcing us to pick up the future. 

I'm afraid we'll just have to live with that. 

But at lease we've never been people to scargaze. 

Holy cow I just want to write something beautiful. 

I'll sing to you, and you'll read to me. 

We sound cliche but that's never felt farther away.

This all kind of started with a game of tic-tac-toe. 

From there we've played a game we won't forget. 

We've met an equal match. 

You said you just wanted to harmonize 

And that's all it feels we do. 

So, thank you.