When I'm falling asleep in the teal hue
of our tiny, tiny room.
I'll look out the window,
drowning out the sound of your snoring
with the city sirens and taxi beeps,
and see how lovely
the lights glow on the glass.
How beautiful a picture they paint,
a stippled masterpiece of glitter specs,
glowing circles that blur at the edges
in every golden color, in every shimmering red.
When every odd is against us,
every gray cubicle and tan cracked sidewalk
that gets in our determined way,
I'll just remember how beautiful the world looked,
with your arm wrapped around me
looking at the color in the life
constantly living outside our window.
And how lucky we are
to be a part of it.