I keep making people fall in love with you through my poetry, because that's what you and your beautiful brown hazel eyes are; poetry. I have 100 thoights a day and 99.9% of the time they're about you. I could spend the whole day writing about you, letting the ink of my pen trace letters on the paper in a slow and careful way, the same way your fingertips traced my skin on that cold Christmas night in the beach under the moonlight, ah, the moon, remember how you used to call me your moon? That's one of the names that I keep dear to my heart out of all the ones you've given me. Do you remember how that cold night you whispered in my ear that you loved me for the first time and I didn't say anything back? Oh, those three words; "I love you" how have they been haunting me since then, but I never got a chance to tell you that I love you back, but I do, I love you more than dear life.
I let my words go from my heart into my mind, and from my mind into my hand, and without even thinking my hand uses the pen to create letters and those letter form words and those words from paragraphs, which form poetry and that poetry spell out about the most beautiful creauture alive: YOU