Daily Journal

Making a list of all the ways you occupy my heart and mind isn't going to be easy. Why not ask me to put all the stars in the universe in the palm of my hand? That would be more manageable than articulating the manner in which I'm obsessed with every tiny detail of your day, curious about every nook and cranny of your mind. My questions loop incessantly making my sleep interrupted and my dreams dismal. I breathe you in and breathe you out.  And what's more obsessive than my breath? My list - numbered one to infinity - is you, you, you.