It is amazing,

How your name

Find it’s way to thoughts

That do not even,

Remotely,

Relate to you.

I guess that’s how it starts,

The falling.

Of course,

Falling might be the wrong word,

No, it’s more like a vine

That grows inside ourselves,

A creeper that bends, twists and travels

Through every space between every thought,

Until you

Are the only thing I can think about.