brooklyn tough || random

... morning glory?

And there you are.

Your hair spills over the pillow,
dark brown on white and I feel the urgent need to go over and let the strands slide through my fingers.
Your eyes are open, but I force myself not to look at you and drown.
Don't.
Don't.
Don't.

Instead I let my thoughts dance, one, two, three and everything you are is suddenly written down in front of me. The honest truth.

I look at my words, I look inside my brain, I recall my dreams.

And there you are.