Every time I think of you, my mind starts reeling. My blood starts to waltz when I didn't even know how to dance. My limbs feel like a nebula, they lose all mass when they hear your name. I want to explain my condition to the people around me. I want to tell everyone that I am not insane. That the reason I lose my words when asked about you is because my knowledge of words wouldn't justify the way your lips curve in a half-smile when you find something amusing. How could I use my words to describe the light in your eyes when you look at me? I can't pen the way your eyes talk to me. I am asked to put in words what our silence says for us. Do you see the fault in their absurd request? 

I want to explain my sanity but my voice shakes. I can't say your name without thinking of the way the stars would bow to your existence. I feel small, you see. Inconsequential, infinitesimal, worth nothing more than a grain of sand does in a desert. They ask me to sum up my feelings for you in words. They have lost it. You know the tiny rainbows you see in dried water droplets when sunlight falls on them? I see you in them. Because surely if something so tiny could hold an entire color palette then it must be love. How do you write about love that makes angels weep? You don't. You become it.