To my dearest sailor man who I long for,
it wasn’t until I saw his face again, had I known what love looked like
and I’ve been since learning the colour his mysteriously light eyes look like.
love had a voice too, almost like a music and his was the only one I wanted to listen
he perhaps had the most beautiful mind, and I was in the awe of the way it worked.
we held hands, love & I and it felt nothing short of a magic at first,
i’ve since been learning the way his fingers would make circles in my palm.
love is now aware of the times i’d need a shoulder to rest my head on,
and I’ve been learning the way he would casually lean a perfect angle to make it a home for my head.
a spark that pulls us closer everyday, like a magnet we craved each other
and I’ve been learning how his arms would wrap around me, and hand so gentle would move against my arm.
remembrance of the time his lips touched the back of my hand and made my world come to a standstill is still my most favourite feelings to learn of love.
love is no good at goodbyes, none of us are and I hope we never learn that.
I hope we instead hug each other awkwardly, be sad and sulk about the fact that we’re gonna miss each other like shit and long for the loving everyday because we damn right will. Screw this poetry I fucking miss you.