I Speak, with the understanding of knowledge, making me wise to what I see to be an illusion derived from the desires of my heart. I say, you are pulchritudinous. Repelled to the visions of the open, fallen to revealed of the eye, settled for acceptance of the seen, I die. Not unto death, but unto life, life with you. For I know that purpose is permitted and coincidence isn’t admitted, I doubt not the meeting of you, for if I did, what would be the meaning? I touch you from a distance, reaching far and beyond, only to be close to you, I lone for you, I belong to you. Although words may not carry, thoughts do, mine, sent out into the universe, transfigured into reality, and there you stand. You. My thoughts.