Me, achingly plain, her, breathtaking,
As if she was dipped in molten starlight.
Words tumble from her lips, and I
Twist my hands in front of me,
Wishing i could catch them,
Keep them in a special place somewhere.
The land around us seems to twist and bend,
Snow streaking down like millions of falling stars one moment
And barely moving the next.
It's always been like that.
Time passes disjointedly when we're together,
As if even the clock were astonished by her.
Her little motions,
the way her hands flutter through the air
(Like butterflies, as if they are trying to fly away from her)
When she is trying to illustrate something particular,
The way her eyes seem always changing,
Her laugh, her smile, once so rare,
That i still treat like some precious gem.
The way her mind seems to never rest,
Always pondering something.
(What she'll make next, the secrets of the universe)
I imagine, when i am alone,
And time goes back to flowing regularly,
at a pace I can comprehend,
What she sees when she looks at me.
I'm always so curious what i look like through her eyes.
Those eyes that contain more than the universe.
Do i have a fixed place in that beautiful brain?
A little chair in the corner,
Like she has in mine?