It feels like a nose print on my glasses.
First, of course, my thoughts turn to you
And I think about how we got here.
All the good and not-so-good moments.
Sometimes I'm in a hurry and simply wipe away the smudge.
Sometime I let it sit.
Sometimes I like it there as a constant reminder
Of where we are at.
Where I am at.
In this place of love and honesty
And fear and crushing, suffocating hurt.
I wish I could wipe the feelings away
Like you nose print on my glasses.
But, then again, there will be more tomorrow.