These words are not for you; you who has never kissed a page anointed your lips with ink because the words themselves felt holy.
You who sees but cannot hear a murmuration how it sounds like notes on a piano twisting and bouncing in harmony.
You have never pulled a smile out of the left side of a girl's mouth as if you were pulling candy heavy— resistant and all the sweeter for it.
You do not know beauty nor the means to create it. And I will not simply abide love.
I need an alchemist.
Someone to turn gold into pixie dust, diamonds into promises.
Someone who will call the thunder so they can shove me into the rain until I'm soaked and laughing,