Late night whispers of sweet tender nothing's that mean the universe,
catching on the wind and protruding from cherry blossom lips.
Floating across the sky, and resting on the bedsheets,
where we have our ears pressed, listening intently.
Hoping to catch the words in our mouths as they bounce from pillow to pillow.
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 3:01 PM UTC
Late night whispers of sweet tender nothing's that mean the universe,
catching on the wind and protruding from cherry blossom lips.
Floating across the sky, and resting on the bedsheets,
where we have our ears pressed, listening intently.
Hoping to catch the words in our mouths as they bounce from pillow to pillow.
