Personal

I traced the contour of your face

as you granted

as you look right into the core of my eyes

natural light on our faces -



So many thoughts to convey

I wonder where does the stream of source ends

it flows on and on and on

so as my romanticized ideas

deliberately, they run free

bare footed, light weighted

with an innate rhythm

of a wind-chasing beast


My means to an end

fear and consequences;

they do not conquer

for my intentions are not to be wronged

my kindness, of a result

to intrude with no complexity

the old school method, some might say

and a tradition I keep, most importantly





I don't know what I can do for you

Give joy over a preference of sadness

Good company over a preference of solitude

Sometimes I wonder

Not all the time, just sometimes



And as I trace the contour of your face

I tried to sense as much as I can

like a blind man

- just when can I see you again

"I like you"




I blurted

seems effortless