In love?
It must be a waltz but I’ve never waltzed
or soft tapping of feet on solid cloud
but a steady feeling, observing when to storm or harvest
the kind one can never regret.
You know a craving of chocolate
while having an aching tooth,
Or a run on a rainy day,
There’s reason, not spiteful but one
which could prevent a headache
Yet the heart will only stomp its feet.
I feel, I might have been in love
each time a pen translated my thoughts;
Yes, my hand was writing
but description that lets me meet
my thoughts, how it feels as though
they’re conversing with me
whilst silly but to my soul
it’s a taste of said waltz or glide amongst the stars.
You know; the roof that’s been uplisted.
In love…