But one day my secret follower asked me, "Why don't you ever write about us?"
Its not because I don't love how the light hits his face, or how his face is warm like a baby and he toots his booty in the air when he's sleep, but its for the same reason that I don't invite him every time I go out with my friends:
Because this blog is my own.
Everything I write at some point can be a reflection of him, because he is a part of me, and I of him.
So your influence doesn't need to be as tangible as a story about you, as should you know every time I write, I have you in my heart and mind.
Just know that this morning you changed my life when you grabbed both sides of my face,
While I wore blue scrubs, and no makeup, and hair that flew to the graces of the wind,
And peered through my eyes, into my soul, inside my heart,
And said with your first waking breaths,
Shortly after you rose,
"You are so beautiful"...not to me, not in my opinion, but period.
That I was his urban beauty in a concrete city,
Filled of dreams in broken glass.
And I floated on a cloud of love for the rest of the day...