I hear your feet and heart, pounding, pounding, pounding.
The whispers are re-sounding, re-sounding, re-sounding.
Your feet slamming the forest floor, you bob and weave between the trees
The feeling of my fingers on yours, the tingle of skin with every breath I breathe

You went and claimed that I’ve got apathy, so what I’ll do is write all about you.
Write essays, poems, ballads, pages of scribbles, nuances that I love about you.
I often stare, its in order to try and fathom the true depth of your intellect.
You’re an enigma and so, I get the urge to sing praises about your depth.

I hold you tight, pull you close and could kiss you sweetly
I squeeze you, lift you, wrestle you, love you uniquely
Playmate, close friend, dare devil and abstract thinker
Dancer, dreamer, schemer, artist and French speaker

You bolt, dodge and weave through the forest that is my mind


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