He has a mind that speaks itself into a whisper.
As in, he is always speaking under his breath, and I am always leaning in closer.
Not to hear what he has to say, but because the magnetic pull from this boy’s mind has the ability to shift the earth’s field.
His words have latched a hidden anchor around my thoughts, and I have never found a reason better than him to sink into the comfort of joy.
All radiance and unmistakeable curiosity, you could characterize him as a planet out of orbit recreating his own alignment.
The exhilaration felt from the gleam of his smile is my preferred rollercoaster.
The resonance of his laughter is the honey in my cup of tea.
His hands tell far more of time’s value than the heirloom clock ticking in the back of my mind, and for those hands, belonging to that boy, there isn’t much I wouldn’t do.
© 2019 Xandra Lang