cheese

I can feel the strings of my heart being strummed again. Like a guitar being tuned in for an awesome whirlpool rollercoaster music session. Here I am, lying on the bed, face facing the ceiling, thinking about how I want you next to me right now. How much I crave your laughter even though it's only been a couple of minutes since I last heard it. You might call me desperate and I shall gladly agree. Your art could make Dali's eyes pop out. It has made me fall for you, and that's saying something. Love is often confused with lust but this is neither. You're my desire. Like the warm rays of morning sunshine that graze your skin on a mountain with cool breeze. Or the river water flowing against your foot, barely making you wet but still sending chills down your spine. I desire you how a child would want to be pushed a little more times on the swing before he takes the leap of faith and tumbles bum-first on the ground. See, I have learnt deceit and tasted false promises but all I get from you is vanilla whiffs of belongingness. All I see is you in your artistic glory. Heck, there's colour screaming emotions in your black and white. If I had to pick a colour for your soul, it'd take me a whole day to find the perfect shade. How do you validate an angel with red, blue & purple? Nope. You're the kind of boy who makes people go crazy. It's been one month and I'm writing to you. You bring out all the cheese in me.