I think may be, may be
I fell in love with your
irregular patterns and inconsistencies.
because it contradicts
to mine.
I don’t grace but dread
the day I am laying next to you in bed
or perched in the passenger seat of your
car admiring the way your
hand curves perfectly into mine.
I think may be, may be I fell
in love with the tracing
patterns on your skin only
to learn it as a delusion
and I lose my composure
and my favorite three words
riddle off my tongue , out to you
and you ask me why
I do love you
I think may be, may be
I fell in love with the way of it
Because I think that when
you do love someone
it’s really not a particular reason
because you don’t just love them
as a person,
but you love every detail about them
you love everything about
them
from the way they
describe
their happy day to
how they ace a bad
day
from the tranquility that clouds
them in the night hours to
the creases on their forehead
when angry or the way they
hold back their tears or
do good to someone without
letting them know and
I guess I am just scared of
what you think when the only
answer I will give to why I love you is
a speechless grin or silence.
Because silence speaks
more than words do
I think may be, may be
I fell in love with more than that.
May be.
