I cannot articulate the sense of love I have for her
but whenever I see her beautiful eyes
I feel like I've joined the primordial soup of humanity
and she's the one steering the seas in the right direction
I think a metaphor for you would be Humanity
I directly equate you to humanity, and all that is good
You are playing outside in the grass
You are happiness
You are the smell of freshly baked pies in Russian Hill
You are a child opening a present on Christmas
You are listening to an album and finding that one song
that you listen to on repeat for hours
You are lonely walks in crunchy leaf avenues in Toronto
and feeling content with the weather
C o l
l e e n
H a p p y B i r t h d a y ♥

Dec – Jan ’26

All The Isms

Dec – Jan ’26 · our little language