the slow hazel skies covering my sight
make me dream of stars and light
this monochrome and dusty wind
blows away all that could have been

yet there is still brightness caressing my heart
binding the calloused hands of the dark
finally i can now dream
of what was, is, and could have been

I would want him to whisper
to tenderly touch my neck
with his hands, with his lips

I would want him to hold
my hand, my waist, my heart
to sway me around

I would want him to speak
say nothings, say somethings
say 'follow me'

and I would

this repetitive
this repetitive action
this repetitive action at night

when staring at the cieling
looking for, hoping for thoughts

instead it is an emotioneless stare
at the walls of your room

a tired stare, but not tired enough
to close your eyes

morning gracefully glides
over the lingering night,
icy crystals like diamonds
effortlessly hovering in the daylit sky,
sun's golden warmth
joins hands
with the twinging frost,
and the lingering night
gracefully glides
over the morning.