I had written of missing you before I experience your form.
Loved you before you were born.
I told the story of us meeting through pieces of my past.
I created your pain and all of your struggles.
Hand picked your fears, your smile, and I crafted your tears.
I sang your voice into my head and cast a spell on each word that exited your lips.
Anyone can be mirror but only you have embraced my wishes.
I am not in love with mirrors.
I am in love with art.
And trees that bend to the will of the wind.
I am not in love with my own reflection.
I am in love with the stars.
And the moon.
And every passing cloud that creeps across the landscape of my mind.
I am not in love with my own eyes.
I am in love with sounds I don’t understand.
And music that vibrates out of the ground.
And secrets whispered silently into the air.
I never cared to much for water until I stumbled upon the history of its heat.
I always pictured it ice cold
Only refreshing when I couldn’t breathe.
I thought water stole my fire
Until I found my hidden hot spring.
I thought I knew a few things until I met you.
Until missing you became real.
Until dreams became reality.
Until the puzzle took its form.
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