We cooked our dinner, And we sat by one another, Grinning, Because what else was there to say? In candlelight, We were humming silently To the tune of the other, At peace.
There's a tiredness in my bones that runs deeper than my ability to think. I am tired of this life, of living for the others I am driven to love. They are difficult. I am exhausted.
I had the overwhelming sensation That I should've been holding a hand, Your hand, As I travelled home on that bus. Something so mundane as public transport Still feels igniting when I can run my fingers Over the knuckles Of your strumming hand.