Move

When you say you love me I feel myself move. Like a new flexibility of my soul has awakened after being still for as along as existence. I can't help but moon over you like the child I once was. You make me feel small and it feels like when we talk, all of my little stresses seem less heavy as you carry them with me. I feel like dancing even with my clumsy toes leading me only to fall. Being stale is what I was. When you are stale you are a tin can without oil. Everything turns to grey and love is an object, not a feeling. With you, I feel love. I remember what it's like to be completely head over heals, stumbling over words and forgetting what to say when I see those eyes. I remember what it's like to hurt and that's beautiful because feeling pain is much more interesting than not feeling. You with your words and opinions make life interesting. It's not that you are the person giving me oil. It's that you make me feel completely and utterly human. You make me move.