My favourite season is winter: not because I liked the way the raindrops glided down leaves in a graceful dance, or because the melody of the wind left the air bitter, or even because I loved how the glazing of snow left me in a trance. But because the thought of us huddling together underneath the cosiest of blankets intertwined, watching these beautiful scenes was left to linger in my mind.
My favourite song only became my favourite when every analysis of each lyric led to flashes of you, a constant image left to linger in between the lines of each lyric, it's true.
Sometimes when I feel weak, my mind runs to moments of strength, but only to take a peek. Because in each of these moments there's only one common denominator, the one that makes me feel seen, of my heart you're the dictator.
When I believe I can't feel, your affect is the only thing that remains to linger, all I want to feel is just the touch of your finger mirrored with mine as if we're separated by a looking glass. I want the glass to shatter, leaving you protected as I take the impact of each shard, the shrapnel worth it just to hear your voice, I don't care if I'm scarred.
The image of you and us lingers my mind like a peaceful yet malignant tumour, my heart aching for it to be images of our legitimate future.
