You've taken me back to a state I feel I was missing from for a while. It's your voice I think. Or the look of you. A stranger in the distance, but someone molded by my mind. What I know for sure is the way you made me feel. Connected to the grass and the dirt in the ground, sinking into the natural Earth. You make me feel like summer, drifting slowly like the wispy clouds pressed against the blue sky. I can't remember your eye color, but I imagine them to be like the sky or the ocean, serene and calm on an early summer day. Your voice reminds me of another. And I can listen to it all day. I need more of it. I need to feel myself tumbling down a hill. You made me feel that way. I don't know why. Let me listen some more. Let me feel the summer meld with my bones, in warmth, and sun, and green grass. Back to slow living, free thinking. Let me feel you near, a face like a dream that I can only drift by. My darling, I've had no tremendous fears. But with you, I wonder what you'll think. So sing on, something I've yet to hear. And let me tumble through grass. And take me back to the state I've been missing from. Take me.
It's a strange tendency of mine to be enticed by people I've known for a long while. Perhaps I don't speak to them, but they're incredibly beautiful in my eyes. With gentle curls tumbling down their cheeks or the way their glasses cast a little shadow on their cheeks. That description could fit an abundance of people. But, it's the specifics like the flicker of gold in their eyes, or the dots on their cheek that distinguish them from anyone else.
This morning, before I slipped out of bed, a voice crept its way into my head, such a sweet one. It came from a friend's Instagram video, but it reminded me of safety, of Kent Falls, of Lake George, of the forest. I don't remember if she was there, when a different person I once knew made me feel like nature erupted inside of me. If she was, I would not be surprised. And I felt like myself again.