Firsthand.

04 May 2017

 It's your substance.
The way you bring essence to life.
It's your foundation.
It's the attraction to your enthusiastic light.
You give me answers to questions I don't even ask.
You feed my curiosity and my cravings,
I never even knew I had.
It's the amount of interest you extract from me.
At any given hour.
It's the invincibility that derives constantly.
From your greetings.
It's how limitless your mind is,
Breaking boundaries of a structured brain.
It's how I want to keep up and taste every wandering notion you send out to the universe,
Naturally.
It's how I want to soak all of your energy in,
(Not so) subtly.
It's your words you carefully articulate,
But it's the immeasurable perspectives you scatter, Obnoxiously.
Anxiously. Unapologetically.
That I impatiently care to analyze.
You are art that feeds my hunger.
A hunger that will not be fed...enough of.
Irresistible yearnings.
It's your unimaginable mess I want to witness.
It's your substance that awakens me
to an entirely new world.
It's your boldness to try anything once.
It's the way you flourish around the sun.
It's all of it.
Without doubt, I want the first-hand experience.