You Are My Mountain View.

I envy the self of me I will never have. My lip quivers and I stroke my stubble I this self walking down the street well dressed, brooding with business and focus. He's walks tall with a forward step. He's creatively honest about everything, confident that mystery doesn't lie, it just won't answer all of their questions. Gray his favorite color, wearing hats of style, a glass-half-full smile his only value, to say, to really say, "I'm one of you. I am and always will be one of you." Heading towards work thinking of family, whispering himself dialogues he will have with his husband and children; his eyes snacking on the light of the morning. He dreams of what he knows he will give his children. His cheeks rise subtly higher and he breathes, wishing he could know his children even better, than there would be more of himself to give them. Never angry with his husband, he plans tender nudges of love to prod his heart the courage to simply ask his sweetheart to compromise with grace; this flavor of love to creatively develop in his lover. His lover, HIS LOVER, full of spit and vinegar, stubbornly convinced all his ways provide success. I this self agree except when sensing the alienation that this lover has brought to his most treasured. He fixes his hat, smiles larger and looks up for a view, "Where is my brightest view of the morning? Where are the sights of my lover in these mountains? I shall call him when I get to work of colors I see. An tell him nothing is more beautiful than thee. Inspired by Brad Pitt ;) (no really...it really is)