4-15-2012

i fall in love with something different in a boy every day:

when he stumbles over his own mouth, trying so excitedly to get his point across

he never really can say a thing right at all, but that's not what matters, it is the thing behind the meaning that i adore.

when he is up on the stage, laughing nervously, that half-way smile

while his exquisite hands feel like they are inside of my chest, he's playing my heartstrings as well as his guitar's.

when he shifts his weight in his old, worn-out cowboy boots

he hardly ever looks me in the eye, even when i speak his name, the name that tastes so familiar in my mouth though i've said it only once or twice.

those, my love, are simply the tinglings of my spine, the slight taps on my lower left rib.

you, when you speak in our language, it is like my mother language, and i am hearing it for the first time and i am hearing it for the thousandth time. when you talk to me i am home.

when you are in your car and i am in the passenger seat and you are shifting through the gears like this your instrument and you are so very proud of your craft. when i am there, with you, your hand on the stick and my hand on your knee, i am home.

when you are standing on my porch, your hands in your pockets and i can feel you breathing right next to me. we are looking at the stars, but they are hiding behind the clouds, yet we know they are there and we are still making connections (between them and between us). i say your name and you look straight into my eyes and i ruffle your hair and smile so brightly at you. and in that exact moment, that is all that i ever want to be and i am home.