my love

i carry a piece of you on the tip of my tongue it spills out sometimes and fills strangers ears creeping up on them like an echo the repetition keeps me sane in constant avoidance of the fear that you will eventually disappear if you cease to exist  in my nostalgic imagination and sometimes i'll swallow this tiny piece of you it'll slowly flow like honey through my veins to keep me warm as i lay here touch-starved in silence,  involuntary silence a mess of my own making loud echos turn to whispers as i'm hanging by a thread my memory works overtime to remember what you've said sometimes i wish you were softer so i have no time to overthink maybe it's me who needs to harden and stop seeing things in pink and red and endless tints my emotions get the best of me on occasion, i won't deny but with everything left so incomplete i look for answers in the sky so for now i'll keep my piece of you tightly on my tongue until i finally find out the things that until no...

 nothing feels more lovely than a sunday morning window ajar soft rain on the glass the smell of wet grass creeping through the gap half-awake eyes hazy body warm time eternal and gentle and oh so blissful this moment is revolving around the hand that i'm holding the world outside is grey but inside this room is golden everything a shape i can hardly make out anything other than the closeness of your mouth to mine as we sleep in perfect solitude on this lovely sunday morning that i hope never ends