Curves Toward The Heart

I added a photo of you to the wallpaper of my iPod. This seems like a minuscule point in the grand scheme of the world, but to me it has relevance. There is a world on the internet, and a world whose air I must walk through daily. It is very rare that someone, or something, crosses through both worlds. You have.

This past week has left me feeling like there is a void in my life that was once filled by you. By your smile, your words, your giggle, your vibrance. In a moment of weakness, I started to tell you about these feelings. It is strange for me to associate any part of your existence with something other than joy.

Having your photo with me feels like a secret. That I know the stunning beauty that was captured in that photograph. I carry it in my pocket all day. I look at it and hope that somewhere in this world, there is a copy waiting to be found by a future generation.

Beauty on a shelf.

Weathered, and worn.

Beauty of yourself.

Captured only by film.

Corners of the picture crumpled and folded.

Never framed.

Curved slightly by the hand that held it to the heart.

Discovered by others.

Vision of a beautiful moment.

Viewed with wide eyes.

As cherished as a Monet.

It Is Out Of My Control

Like the cold air to my lungs.

Like a flame to the flesh.

Like your smile to my heart.

Like a lemon to the tongue.

You affect me.