Holding Hands

Its the telling of how i knew you were wonderful before i ever knew you, and how when i met you i knew i would love you, and how when you said my name i knew i always loved you, and how after only one day i knew why.
Its the telling of how its more than a feeling, its the pillows and the turtles and the way you squint your eyes, when you smile, when you laugh, when your eating and drinking and riding your bike.
Its the piles of boxes, the books on your shelves. Its the photoes and records and the candles on you window seal.
Its really the telling of your words and their beauty and the way they make me want to sing, or your words and your beauty and the way you speak to me.
Its the telling of how i want to share with you the parts of my world, the stories untold and to be told. Stories of dancing with you under bridges and city streets, walks through cemetaries kicking up leaves with our feet, and you can hold my hand, i would like that.
Its the telling of time with you by my side and how you turned one week into a life meater to gage the rest by.
thank you the world over

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