The first time you spoke to me, it was as gentle as the sound of a calm sea. You said you liked my house, that was a big thing for me, because always I have rebuilt it. Since then I have you on my consciousness. The way you move, the way you do your splendors gifts to the world. I couldn't understand what a selfless person was. Now I do. Your long hair caressed like the sun on my cold days. On hot nights the fire body consumption of two gave me a yearning of knowing your inner soul, and the way you would respond. Instead of wrinkled pages of a body which were laying on my bed. Your skin when it touched mine, it took the pain away. I can only hope one day I receive a call from you on my old phone that has the stickers you gave me. On hot days I can only hope to take you to the fountain where we used to sit. The one with the Angels and the swans. The frolic of those days are still alive like a movie on endless repeat inside my head too.
The views expressed in these submissions are from anonymous, unverified sources and do not necessarily represent those of the Portland Mercury.