Perfect mess

You called first.
I listened. I listened and thought of you. And of me. Of that day in Maldives. Late spring. Your eyes sparked with dreams. Why that day? I don't know. I guess that's when I knew I was dreaming too. Together with you. It was windy. Gusty even. Your hair was a beautiful mess. Loved to comb through it, to feel it tangle around my fingers.
I asked if wind can mess up a perfection.
You said it's always perfect under all the mess.
You said you just need to learn to look through it. Through the mess. All that mess...Wonder if that perfection is still there...
-Are you even listening now?! Don't tell me you didn't hear me again...
-What? Oh, yes, of course I am. I was...Was just thinking about something for a moment...
-What were you thinking about now that is so f****n' important?
-Ehhh, nothin'...