The spot

you left me by the fire, dreaming,

camping right beneath your heart,

imagining myself in your art,

such a sunlight, and mystical moonlight,

speaking about pages, seconds of the day,

loving you in stages, that begin and end when we say,

I love you,

but today is not like the other day,

not for you, but forever for me,

if you care to look, you know where I'll be.

Sometimes it's everywhere, others, a specific place we remember---or a song, or a smell, a colour, a butterfly, or even just a similar smile. If you remember somewhere like that, You're not alone, I do too, I imagine most of us do.