I'm a little confused.
See — I know I've never actually met you,
so you could say I don't know you.
And maybe, that's true.
I know the curve of your lips
as they dance into a smile.
And that twinkle of kindness in your eye,
just trying to escape and be seen.
It would seem like I had known you my whole life...
...and I would like to —
like to know you like that.
Like the back of my hand
because every time I look,
it would puzzled perfectly in yours,
feeling for more
because the surface area of our fingertips and our palms
wasn't enough of a direct connection.
I want you to know my affection.
To know that my laughter is rooted in your heart
and that each smile is a reflection of the care we share,
if you would dare,
I want to know you like that.
I want to know
so much of you,
that I lose myself,
only to find it again,
like a recurring treasure hunt
where I find X every time.
If you would 'be mine.'
I know it's not February 14th, but...
...you're so sweet.
I've been told of what it feels like
to have your entire being smile inside and out,
and now I can attest to what that's about,
thanks to you.
But...I don't know you.
But I'd like to.
If you would give me the chance,
I would speak symphonies to which your lips could dance
and piroutte into that smile I adore.
Even more, I would try not to stare,
as much as just be overly aware
of that twinkle I live for,
right in the pupil of your eye.
I would try — no, I would do — whatever you needed me to.
But...I don't know you...
At least...not like that.