I like the sound that ordinary note book paper makes when I tear it into pieces or crumple it in my hands
But not as much as
I like the way it feels when I lick warm chocolate fudge cake off of the front of my teeth
But not as much as
I like taking off my glasses and running through the grass in the rain with no shoes on
But not as much as, not nearly as much as
I like it when a stranger stops what they are doing to come tell me that I am beautiful and then continues on with their day
But I’m convinced that I don’t like anything as much as
Cracking the spine on a brand new Brian Vaughan comic and sniffing the pages
Except one thing
When you whisper into my hair that you love me in the middle of the night when you think that I am asleep…
My Mind, My Mood, My delicately poisoned pen... 