Nameless

I remember when your name was just another name that rolled without thought off my tongue. Now, I can't look at your name without an abundance of sentiment attached to each letter.

Your name, which I played with so carelessly, so

easily, has somehow become sacred to my lips, a

name I won't throw around light heartedly or repeat without deep thought.

And if ever I speak of you, I use the English

language to describe who you were to me.

You are nameless, because those letters grouped

together in that familiar form carries too much

meaning for my capricious heart.

I remember when your voice was just another sound that filled my ears with no special significance. Now, I can't hear your voice without a surge of emotion that stirs my soul. 

Your voice, which I listened to so casually, so indifferently, has somehow become music to my ears, a voice I won't ignore or forget even when you're not around.

And if ever I hear you, I use the English language to understand what you say to me.

You are voiceless, because those words spoken

in that familiar tone holds too much power over my restless mind.

I remember when your face was just another face that blended in the crowd with no particular charm. Now, I can't see your face without a flash of memory that warms my heart.

Your face, which I glanced at so briefly, so

unconsciously, has somehow become a vision to my eyes, a face I won't overlook or erase even when you're far away.

And if ever I see you, I use the English language to recognize who you are to me.

You are faceless, because those features arranged in that familiar shape bears too much

beauty for my longing eyes.