And his name was...

She didn't know his name but I don't know his face. I only know the song his words so magically paint. The crave he creates. Its a wave, its a rush. It's taboo, its so funny, its uncanny, it's hushed. It's inconvenient, couldn't come at worste time. Its soooo unreal, he's always on my mind & its blowing my mind. I await the next email, suspended in time. I am w/o reason, he is w/o cause. We are but fall blossoms, flaws & all. The ember from a candlelight, the mistress of the flame. The empress named phoenix. The color of the change. The hue of blowing leaves...the peace after the storm. Mysteries to life she brings. On the dust of a star or the essence of a breeze. The lullaby of humming birds, a sliding strum upon guitar strings. She didn't know his name & I don't know his face. I only knw the strength of his words & the power he makes me taste. I am blessed to feel the ways. All the madness wiped out as I'm caressed from the page. Tickle me senseless, sprinkled with some surprisingly shocking good encouragement...now these are the variables that make up the magic formula. I'm spellbound, under new management. I'm lost in the words, its a thrilling mystery. Something about the way his imagination moves me. His passion erupts with such that I am touched from the inside out. Deep down to the core, deep down where it counts. I don't know what it means, nor am I trying to figure it out. I await the next message. Time carves me hollow, a shell of the light that beams. When I glow as Inbox(1) appears on my screen.