Teen Ink

Is much better than going to London, Italy, France, Greece, Hoboken
or being caught up in the crowds on the streets of New York City while going to the Empire State Building
partly because your cologne smells like a ­better, more handsome version of Ben ­Affleck
partly because of my love for you, partly ­because of your love for your new Mustang
partly because of the rain trickling down your window, partly because of your hands
partly because of the way your words inspire my psyche and soul
it is difficult to understand how one can live their life without this intoxicating bliss
the way your brown eyes longingly converse with mine, wordless, content, practically frozen in time
in the cool October nightly breeze, we are hidden beneath a large warm cover
burrowed deep with a family of bunnies in their holes
and the city pedestrians seem to make no noise at all, just a blur of images
you suddenly wish if only this moment could go on forever, sitting upon your scruffy ­maroon porch steps
I glance at your soft jaw line, and I would rather look at your face than at all the busy people of the world
and when you are with me my stress seems to fly away
and what is the point of all the busy
pedestrians hurrying to jobs
when they never got the chance to pause for a second and experience a perfect situation with a mate, for it was unconditional love at first sight
suddenly realize how fortunate, have someone to hold, someone to longingly care and deeply cherish
when many never got the chance to
experience this pure glee, as if never existed to begin with
this will not fritter away on us; I whisper these soft words into your ear then we sit upon these cold steps, not alone but together.