UNTIL THEN
I used to believe i couldn’t write romantic words and place them on paper, in a poem until I had inspiration from a lover, of love, something to look foward to every day, someone.
But lately things are different,
I seem to have a lot to write about loving someone I haven’t even met. Yet.
My affection is stored in places that run deep in my imagination, hoping to awaken some truth. Some reality of this person.
I have a tonne of things to say and I haven’t even met you yet, for I believe you will impact my heart the same way my poems drool onto the idea of finding someone like you.
And when you do come , I will carry you, travel to my world where cities and buildings’ foundations are bricks written in your name with love notes attached to it.
Where petals will solicify the ground you walk on, gardens painted in colour of love, my love, of you love.
A world where wind itself blows in the direction of your scent, where ever you may desire to be. Where the greatest tales are those of my love for you, how I will dedicate my entire life to love you specifically.
Rumors of our aflame love making will utter discretely in the corners of love city ,where my hand will be implemented to yours like a tree branch, permanent like coffin nail.
It is no fairy tale,but it is only because science beats me that i cannot promise you the world,
I promise you my world.