This is how I compose my love.
Converting lines of dub-step and stomach butterflies into symphony.
An odd mix of ingredients that lead to syncopated inspiration.
The tenth repetition of a song.
I know it all too well.
Like the way your fingers trace my jawline.
The photograph of a moment.
Your moonlit kisses under an indigo sky.
Followed by a watercolor daydream.
My mind hums the tracks that
you would have listened to
on your van’s broken stereo.
Speechless, with love notes in my hands.
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