you blow me away.

truth.

who gave you permission to do that?
what right do you have?

my favorite part about you
wanna know?
it's not those brilliant eyelashes that when pointing at me i feel oh so lucky
or the shape of your eyelids behind your glasses when every hope you ever had seems to be ready to nose dive into the world on the tip of your raised brows
my favorite part about you does not lay on a bookshelf of solitude company, the peace and new lands you travel, the culture and enlightenment you receive
it's not your long body so close to mine that one morning oh so kind curled up to one side of the couch
it's not the blue pen mark you left as a reminder on your cushion
my favorite part isn't taking a walk through your high school yearbook and somehow sharing new memories with you from some where i didn't even attend
or telling you my life story and you giving me the epiphany... no one really did have my back
it's not champagne mornings
break of day songs
borrowed space
nor the smell of your sweater against my skin
your plastic utensils
or your beautiful note from katherine hepburn
your hand on my knee
your heart in my pocket

i asked you if you wanted to eventually edit movies, shows, etc...
you simply smiled
and said you're happy where you're at
you enjoy your job
you love what you do
that's my favorite part
you are content, in the best way possible
so simple

you love what you do
makes me think, anyone would be lucky to work with you, know you, be your friend, be your lover
because you are that pure, that simple
that thorough
you are love
that is my most favoritist part


oh... and it's definitely not those scars on your cheeks that glisten