i read you stories while you are asleep.
i hope you don't mind me saying this, but you're mine.
since my heart memorized the smell of you existing and the silence painted on that transparent veil with which you covered your face, i dare to guess why i mustn't give you up.
not just yet.
move in closer, there are nice things happening where the unafraid endure.
and my world was a lot emptier before you showed up, so we may read to each other.
it may keep us satisfied and a bit happier.
your manners are socially equipped but i suspect that doesn't make you too shallow.
we talk the way we talk, we do the things we do, we are something - whatever it is, it doesn't matter for the (time) being.
tic-tac.
i'm waiting.
it always takes time.
(i hope your name's not godot.
-
and i hope you got chiclets.)