Sometimes I will write something for you. Only for you. But I won’t tag it, I won’t use your name anywhere. I wait, and there you are.
You sniff love out like a dog. You can smell death, pain, beauty, vulnerability, and passion. You have a nose for everything that cuts clean to the bone. I have only to lay out the meat of life for you and I know it will bring you here quicker than any serenade, more urgently than any love letter, more fearlessly than any promise ever could.
You know who you are. Here you come.