Author’s Note

People often ask what I find attractive.

The answer has never been particularly complicated.

I’ve always been fascinated by minds.

Not intelligence in the competitive sense. Not who can quote the most books or win the most arguments.

I mean curiosity.

The way someone thinks.

The stories they tell without realizing they’re telling them.

The dreams they quietly carry.

The questions that keep them awake at night.

I’ve found that the most beautiful parts of a person usually reveal themselves in conversation.

Not during introductions.

Not through appearances.

But somewhere between laughter, honesty, and those moments when someone forgets they’re trying to impress you.

That’s when people become themselves.

I’ve always believed there are pieces of us that only exist in dialogue. Parts that don’t emerge until someone asks the right question, or listens long enough for the answer to arrive.

Maybe that’s why I chose the word lore.

History is a record of what happened.

Lore is what those moments became.

It’s the mythology of a person—the stories, beliefs, fears, dreams, and experiences that shape how they move through the world.

That’s what I want to know.

Not because I need to solve anyone.

Because understanding another person’s inner world feels like one of the greatest privileges we can offer each other.

This poem isn’t really about romance.

It’s about attention.

About listening deeply enough that another person feels safe becoming fully known.

For me, that’s where intimacy has always begun.

— Rowan Evans

Where Intimacy Begins
Poetry by Rowan Evans

They may want a body,
but I want a mind—
they are fine with the surface,
I want the depths that you hide.
It’s in conversation you find
the light hidden inside.

They see beauty in a face,
I see beauty in the things you say
and the way language takes shape.
I see beauty in the thoughts,
the dreams, the plans.

You see, it’s all about
the mental connection for me.
I want to touch your mind,
see what stories I’ll find—
the lore that I’ll learn.

And when you speak, I’ll listen—
you should always feel heard.

I want the stories
you never say out loud,
the half-formed dreams you keep
tucked beneath your ribs.

There are pieces of you
that only appear in conversation.
So I’ll hold your thoughts gently,
the way others hold hands.

Because I’ve learned beauty
lives deeper than skin,
the way a thought can light a room
inside me—

how a single sentence
can feel like a door unlocking.

I’ll meet you
where your mind wanders.
I’ll be the quiet
that lets your truth come forward.

I’ll fall for the way you think
before anything else,
because the mind—

is where intimacy begins.

Journey into the Hexverse…

[What I’m Trying to Say]
What begins as an exaggerated promise of love slowly strips itself back until only one simple truth remains: real devotion isn’t found in grand gestures—it’s found in consistently showing up.

[I’d Rather Try]
Anyone can promise they’d die for someone. But love isn’t built on one dramatic moment—it’s built on showing up, trying again tomorrow, and proving your words through consistent action.

[The Language Her Soul Speaks]
What if love isn’t about being understood, but learning to understand someone else? “The Language Her Soul Speaks” is a free verse poem about intimacy, communication, curiosity, and the desire to know another person beyond the limits of language.

If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]