Passing through those glorious doors together

We find home at Bombay Bakers

Your hand in mine

The sugary air hitting us harder than a brick wall

We both feel the grace of familiarity

Our chemistry hotter than the rolls in the oven

The smell of freshly baked croissants gives me the same warm feeling as your smile

Passing Agora we look at each other with the same bright eyes

It'll just be a quick stop but such a savory one as we sit and share a large caramel coffee

I hate the aftertaste but anything with you is such a candied tang in the end

Your cinnamon dusted lips so close to mine

Your taste so sweet couldn't even be compared

Licking each finger after your touch, trying to save each bit of you

It doesn't matter which side of the world we are on or where we end up in the end

As long as there's that corner bakers shop nearby

It'll be home with you

Are you waiting for a boy to give you flowers?
It's risky when you allow a stranger to control your happiness

Boys have flowers to give, but not to you
All of their flowers are wilting and dead

They use this as a tactic for pleasure
Adoration in exchange for ***

But you know that already…

You are worth flowers
You are worth the liveliest and the brightest

So don't be sad when you are left with none
No one wants dead flowers anyway

I want to know you
And the thoughts inside your mind,
Won't you let me see?