I don't know how fast a heart would have to beat for it to forget all the words that were said in its presence, for if I knew, if I knew how fast, I would probably remember more. But they say that less is more and I say that less is beautiful. Like you, for instance, asking me to imagine a life up in the clouds, not knowing that up in the clouds is where I always am when I am with you. Like you asking me to guess how high that bird is flying, when I, still sitting on the green grass beside you, was already hovering right there with him. I say less is definitely more. Because when you asked me to estimate the number of daisies surrounding us, and then again when I was squeezing a little white one between my fingers, when you said the things you said and then leaned in to stop saying more, less became infinite, and less became beautiful.
And yet, I still don't know how fast a heart would have to beat, but I think it's safe to say that mine got pretty close. And it's not because of what you said, but because of how you said it, of how the universe reacted to cheer you on. I hovered because of the way my hand felt in yours, because up until then my hands were foreign, so alien in fact that I never knew where to put them or what they usually do. I soared because of the way we fed the famished ducks, almost as if we were six again, and time didn't matter, because time never does, not when I am with you.
For when I am with you, time travelling exists, and I can go back to the day I made myself believe that life is chaotically unpredictable, and that being a dreamer is the most exciting way of cruising through it. Because it is, and it seems as if I chased mine long enough until I caught them.
And it seems as if I unplugged my heart until I found you.
And yet, I still don't know how fast a heart would have to beat, but I think it's safe to say that mine got pretty close. And it's not because of what you said, but because of how you said it, of how the universe reacted to cheer you on. I hovered because of the way my hand felt in yours, because up until then my hands were foreign, so alien in fact that I never knew where to put them or what they usually do. I soared because of the way we fed the famished ducks, almost as if we were six again, and time didn't matter, because time never does, not when I am with you.
For when I am with you, time travelling exists, and I can go back to the day I made myself believe that life is chaotically unpredictable, and that being a dreamer is the most exciting way of cruising through it. Because it is, and it seems as if I chased mine long enough until I caught them.
And it seems as if I unplugged my heart until I found you.