And I guess somethings just can not be said. 

And maybe moments are lost within the 'encoding'

of emails, phones and texts- leaving the decoder

with a handful of electronics- broken grammar- and 

a couple rare fine lines. 

'what did I want to tell him?' I ask myself every time 

we hang up.

'what did I want to say?' is the eternal longing of a boy in love.

What did I want to say? That you are the genius. 

That you are the one with words. That this anniversary doesn't 

mark a date- rather it dances to the music of a story. 

 That lately I have been running to teach myself something;

what that something is- I do not know. That in my attempting 

to be pure I worry I am doing it out of guilt. Guilt for what?- I'm not sure- or maybe I do not want to admit it. 

I wonder 'what does he want to tell me?'

I wonder about how much effort it takes.

I think of lighter things- I wonder if one can eat too many blue berries?

I wonder why the waves are bigger in the ocean this year- in comparison 

to any other year. 

I wonder why people let me bite them. I wonder why people don't bite back.

I think of Paris- then spend the same amount of energy trying to submerge 

it back into the magical abyss it manifested from. I take cautions in submerging

memories- I try my best to conserve the magic. Protect the magic for my next adventure. 

reminding myself that magic is work too, after all it is a magician's trick. 

You say "the child is born- the next chapters are the education"

The smart things you say- feel like your fingers running through my hair. 

I wonder what he has to say.