you come up in every conversation. as subtle hints or brash 'as-a-matter-of-fact' mention.
so, is this love?
your stories play in my mind and your 'lessons' are never lost. your images are conjured in the most significantly unwarned manner.
so, is this love?
there were things i never used to even give a glance at. now my eyes never fail to find specifically those items and even hover around them.
i may never bother to search you out. but that doesnt stop me either from being happy by seeing you around.
so, is this love?
p.s.: excerpts from an engaging soliloque of a wandering mindsoul.
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