My mind incessantly busies itself
with you.
How hard it is to focus, to relish the daily intricacies and giggles, with you on my mind. How I long to run my fingers through your hair, for you to smile at me.
You trickle into my dreams; one minute dark eyes and in the next you are someone else, light hair in waves. But I know it is you every time because when you look at me, my cheeks burn and I look away, like some school girl caught red-handed. I awake with a delicious feeling in my limbs.
I think I see you in streets, I know you spend your days nearby. Or so I imagine. It is never you. Some day it will be and I will have no idea. How fickle the imagination, and yet it tickles me.
You are the secret I carry with me.
I loved you first.
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