I get lost in the flow of your words to a smile. Captivating my soul in a trap so elaborate it would be called “going through life”. The pleasantries never spoken yet infinitely heard. It’s blasphemy. That someone so beautiful can touch so many hearts and ever be affiliated with the poison of humanity. It may not be a love letter, but if love is the question I carried it passionately till it burned up in my hand and now there is nothing but the pleasant thoughts of your voice swaying me to sleep like the slow rain drizzling on my window, with my head rested on the cool pillow of your breast. It’s maddening, I choose open-ended analogies because my dream is a fantasy but it allows me to keep my heart covered with the thoughts of possibilities. Maybe one day right?