I like how the breeze feels today. The way it softly caresses my cheeks. Its not moist, not too dry, just how I like it. I think its playing with my hair, just the way you do.
We're miles apart, but today I feel closer to you. Kind of schizophrenic, eh?
No one to share the blanket with is a little awkward though, for obvious reasons. But its okay, the melody you composed two days back is still thrumming in my head. It makes my insides swing to and fro, just as they did 50 hours back when you sang it to me in that deep baritone. Bliss. And oh, sorry for counting the hours since you've been away. Its not a typically me habit, I know.
I like the mint cushions a little today. I thought they were pretty ugly when you got them but I guess no head resting on them adds to the appeal. You know what I mean, no?
The night is still young, and the clouds are thin. Clear night sky, just as we love it. Just that there isn't that insomniac to talk it through tonight.
When I am with you, we stay up all night.
When you are not here, I can't go to sleep.
Praise God for these two insomnias.
And the difference between them.
There are in numerous patches of colors revolving in my brain after the weed. When I think of you, the patch incessantly changes to red. How not surprising.
I feel light-headed but insanely beautiful. If you'd tell me the stars shined for me today, I would believe you.