This is my man. This is my fuckin’ guy. Keysel. My love. My actual real, live, living, breathing, seeing, dancing, singing, feeling, loving love. Together we traverse the universe. Our hearts sail side by side, drawn by the winds of an unspeakable essence... One which weaves flowers and laughter and imagination together, into perfect crowns, to be placed atop our heads. We rejoice in the birthing of sweet little worlds... as do we quell our minds and hearts amidst the passing, falling, and dying away of what appears. The air around you smells of the very plight of Lila, herself; divine play. You are my favorite display. I bare these contents of my heart, organic and spilled clean over, sprawled wide and far across the floor, to be cradled in your witness. Your witnessing eyes, your feeling heart, your tactile hands. You are the one that kisses the fabric I drape ‘round my waist. You are the one that relishes my enjoyment as much as my own whole-foods-mac-and-cheese-filled-mouth and tummy do... if not even more. And Whole Foods mac and cheese is my absolute favorite. You are the one that sings your perfect harmonies of logic and ration and boundary to my tones of depth and darkness and feeling. You are the one that holds dear a vision so alive and mirror-like to that which, I also witness, as it appears to project itself from an unknowable place. You are the one that meets me there. Mmmmmm... You are the one that meets me there.