Tag: butterflies

renovations

ive watched the video you sent me
the tour of the house you’re helping to renovate
you carefully map out the progress of each room
i listened to you explain trimming,
& lighting,
& dry wall,
& contracting.

& i may not understand all of that stuff,
but you in your element
always makes my heart happy.

but that isnt the reason why i watched it 27 times and counting.
when you say,
“and im excited that probably sometime in the future..
we’re gonna do this for us
hopefully. i love you.”
my heart goes all a flutter.
& we both know its been fluttering,
for a very long time now
consistently
unrelentingly.
but now it feels like its fluttering to a rhythm
that we both embody.

& it feels so damn good.

3/4

I love you
like a sea otter loves it’s favorite rock.
Fact: sea otters will search high and low
for a perfect rock
Smooth and ideal in shape
to rest on their belly
& smash clams and shellfish upon
they even have a pouch of skin
Where they keep their favorite rock

You, babe
are my sea otter rock.

tunnels & collar bones

i want to run through every red light to get to you faster
the butterflies caged in my chest break free
when i recognize your silhouette across the dark parking lot
i want to live with my face buried in the space between your collar bones
your smile sets my gut at ease
like the ease you have with kissing the top of my forehead
with a warm, “hey babe”
& i never knew how much i craved
the velvety softness of those two words
until you say it

casually.
like how you casually play off the incredibly thoughtful things you do for me,
like loading the Harry Potter audiobooks to a playlist for me,
or leaving me “thinking of you” videos in the morning.
i want to extend each moment,
each second,
because time apart feels like that game i used to play with my brothers,
holding my breath at the entrance of a tunnel
only allowing myself to exhale once you reach the other side–

only, it’s not a game now.
& i’ve only just caught my breath with you
& don’t want to hold it a second more.
& yet.. i want to let you leave.
i want you to go conquer the world,
and be the person you tell all about it
at the end of the day.

if you didn’t ask me, “how was your circle group meeting?”
i’m quite sure
that all of this
would’ve come tumbling out

in one

breath.

type A

“is she your type?” i ask, motioning to the smokin’ hot YouTube guru i had playing on his desktop

“come here” he says, pulling me to sit on his lap at the edge of his bed

“you are my type” he affirms, wrapping his arms around my waist

“no i’m not” i laugh rolling my eyes, then searching his for a visual contradiction to his words

i find none.

“you are now.” and he kisses me on the cheek

You are the Solution

cliches are born for a reason
they’re cheesy
& lame
& completely out of character

until someone makes you feel the way
you should’ve always felt about another person

they are the reminder
that if what you feel about him
isnt the stuff of love songs on repeat
or throwing pebbles at a girl’s window kind of grand gesture

its not it.
the magic sauce.
the wonderment
& butterflies.

dont settle for your lukewarm feelings

its your heart urging you
to keep lookin’