It is you.
My mind is like a butterfly
that wanders off at the slightest pretext
To sit by your window
And gaze at you.
It goes where you go
It stops where you stop
It can't rest
Anywhere but with you.
In the mornings when I wake
All day in its busyness
In the nights when I sleep
It is with you.
In the joy that elevates me
In the things that inspire me
In the gut-wrenching pain that I feel
It is enjoined with you.
In the words I write
In the poems I read
In the thoughts I think
There are hues of you.
In my few good actions
In my many vices
In my myriad roles
It is mindful of you.
In my viscous dreams
In my powdery reality
And in everything in between
It is of you.
In everything I am
It is you, only you.
Nice! I think it could be sung to a tune too!! Love the use of busyness!
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