The silk of your hair brushed the cotton pillow cover
as piano fingers met my trembling hands.
Lips halted by insecurities.
I felt your gaze in the darkness of a cluttered room.
Four in the morning;
the warmth of your embrace.
The ink of your words
wrote themselves into the layers of my skin.
Waiting for the final kiss that lets us sleep well.
We'll make our own path.
Form our own bliss.
as piano fingers met my trembling hands.
Lips halted by insecurities.
I felt your gaze in the darkness of a cluttered room.
Four in the morning;
the warmth of your embrace.
The ink of your words
wrote themselves into the layers of my skin.
Waiting for the final kiss that lets us sleep well.
We'll make our own path.
Form our own bliss.
No comments:
Post a Comment