have i told you

thank you for the laughs shared in the crease of blue couch sleeps that left prints of our nap time delights on cheeks flushed from the rush outside and the second and third round of coffee grinds. we talked about people you pick out of the crowd those few among the sea of many that leave some blueprint or fingerprint sometimes even footprint on the path you choose to follow and you were one for me. still are.

remember meeting you as part of a two that finished thoughts and acted like there was more waiting to be discovered all on a synthesized stage that i found myself addicted to. i watched you. laughed at jokes that slide off your tongue curled up in the corner of your already grinning mouth and shared a laugh or two with you under artificial lights and breakfast served at noon. started to unravel the mysteries of your eyes as we moved from class to class taking turns and weaving new paths around buildings that loomed first but now hold memories in window panes and pencil stained brains.

listened to you sing for the first time in the room you shared with a view. never knew. learned more about you through your own songs that floated up above our heads and mingled with pieces of you displayed on walls in bright and bold colours and bob marley's head. your lyrics moved me to bed where we stayed for hours talking about cramps in toes mumbled mentions of ceiling fans and turkey gobble woes and life as it was as it is as it should could and would be. we'll see.

late night bubble tea chats with a view to save souls followed by chinese tea and egg rolls with horoscopes and chopsticks and shaky hands while he watches with a smile. that smile. laughing so hard our hands can't even smother the sound but we still try. new conversations and old revelations and funny looks and i know eyes and quiet smiles that slowly seep out from behind fortune cookie goodbyes.

first time cries in front of look away eyes and tissue soaked tears that hold out for fear of drowning. confessions and obsessions tossed out in round about ways while we take turns toying with games for a wannabe tiger named mac. god that cat. leaving holes in brown polka dot couches that soften under the continuation of one main conversation that started the day we met and unknowingly set out to become another footprint or handprint or blueprint on each others fine print.

road trips that lead to my home and your home our homes away from new homes. meeting parents and close friends and gathering pieces of past puzzles that haven't been fully completed just yet. new reasons for being and doing and thinking new reasons for your being and my being and new ties and new links and new ways of thinking about the other. still so much to discover and uncover.

christmas cards and tiny shards that scratch the surface of pale skin. faint impressions and deep depressions and signature looks and books filled with movie clip moments of a day in the life of you me us. laughs outside and inside out thoughts and car rides with musical soundtracks that play back and rewind the good times. sporadic pictures along the way of oh look and just hold and stay so i can take this to document for our sake. a keepsake or two or three or four as we take turns holding the door of my car and your car when we travel to deliver bubble tea straw flowers and love notes with shakespeare quotes.

night time acts that distract us from day time woes and worries of marks and grades and deadlines that show on faces stretched out and then squeezed into tiny balls to appease old balls. hip thrusts and strangers lips that wish to kiss when we're acting in plays that no one knows or comes to see except you and me and CC97 for life written across knuckles that soften in mittens and are warm enough on their own.

give and take away advice over pure white rice and chicken you tried but might now deny. thoughts on romance and dance moves under bedroom hooded eyes and a lack of supervision. permission to try permission to lie permission to help the other uncover where the truth lies and tell him you you miss him before the chance dies.

notes held up high in presentation mode and plans to overtake the world and throw down the show down and pop trunks for the left over lovers among us. value village compromises and surprises hidden under windshield eyes and weird vibes that spell out things we can't verbalize. dreams and screams tossed at the poor guy walking down the street and careful words and concerns voiced in tiptoeing tones and feet that meet on sidewalks and streets for three going on four years now.

where does the story end i don't know but let's go with the flow cause babies cry and my eyes are still dry so right now it's okay not to know. you've left an imprint on my blueprint and i just wanted you to know as we near the end of the beginning of this so-called university life that started with a hey and a hello.