Goldenrose

More often than not you will find language will bow for you

Put your palms on a notebook you filled as a child and with enough intention the push will bring up sentences and phrases you'd forgotten

I.

A small brush of fingers,

Biting your lips to stop a smile,

Choking on the words,

Dancing late under streetlights,

Everything could change with one slip,

Find my waist, feel my heartbeat,

a community of fools

given the power to combine words

and a pen

that can write so much meaning

in just two, or three, or millions of words,

and sometimes, there aren't enough

I — 

I could. 

I could, love. 

I could love you. 

I could love you if… 

I — 

I wanted. 

I wanted to. 

I wanted to, love. 

I want to tell you  I love you 

I love you and your smiles

Your voice even though I’m still learning your language

The way your hands hold things 

A basketball 

Your sisters hand