Here’s Your Reason

You’re the kind of guy
who’s not supposed to exist.

Unknowingly enraptured,
I thought I was just
having a nice conversation
with someone who had
helped me through a year
of insanity I grew to love.

Everything was easy:
words flowed and smiles flashed
back and forth for a moment
I didn’t expect to hold on to.

You say that you ramble;
I don’t know if that’s true,
but I’m wonderstruck by
whatever it is that you do,
‘cause when you speak…
I can only hear you—

not the thoughts on my mind
or any of the passersby,
just you—

‘Cause I’m captivated by your
ability you won’t acknowledge
to grasp this magnificent mess
I can’t wait to get into;
if only I could see for one minute
the workings inside your brain
(and I’ll wonder if I’ll see
anything whizz over my name).

I’m fascinated by the way
you make me melt
at everything you do;
no overstatement here:
‘cause somehow, my dear,
every word or action linked
to you, reaches my heart.

And your passion for an art,
for which I spent eight years
fighting to achieve proficiency,
truly inspires me, full stop.
No amount of time dedicated
to training my hands
could provide me with
the natural instinct I believe
yours and your eyes possess.

You have so much beauty
concentrated into one body
that I can’t believe I know you,
that I can’t let myself ignore you.
You’re a star that’s struck me,
and I would have been a fool
not to wish upon you, no matter
how far away you think you are.

So I don’t know if you wanted to be found,
but my hopes are so high off the ground
that you’ve got me if you ever come around.

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