On Late Night Roadtrips
I'm trying to figure out what colors the sky melt into just before the sun rises. It's some gray, some blue, some pink in the clouds and some purple too. I want to be thrown into the sky like a stone out of a slingshot, submerging in all these different hues. I want to know what flying must be like and I think my whole body is aching for something that feels a lot like love – fearless, immeasurable, boundless.
How can I exist every single day and bear to not witness beauty as unfathomable as this?
I'm looking at him or at least I'm trying to see past the mystery. There's a certain satisfaction in knowing him only on the surface and at the same time keeping his puzzle unsolved, because while I long to know more, I desire to keep this image of him untouched. I'm looking at him like a work of art – adoring him at a safe distance without disturbing his peace as I keep the intrigue and admiration intact.
I sure hope he knows how beautiful he is.