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That Sunday
When I was running around with a headache, a tired body, questionable hormone levels and with the desperate idea of sleeping early.

Ended up in your bed...
Don't know if it was because of the chemicals in my blood or the feelings I've been trying to compress.

But I felt the sweet breeze of peace in the bedsheets, in between your arms, in your greenish eyes, in your nervous laugh, and in the air of the room, we've been sleeping together for some time.

I'm begging it's not an illusion or a cruel game that my mind is playing.

Cause it's almost like...
Feeling free in a prison
Sleeping in the middle of the day
Smelling flowers in the office
or taking a day off...

Scared, nervous, maybe a little crazy...

Doesn't really matter since I lost myself in the fantasy of being with you... every second of every day.

— The End —