Most days

bleak

are just the tidal wave hum

of hands on a clock

Waiting to wake up

Waiting to go to work

Waiting to go home

to sleep

and I just want to be

wiped from existence

But I live

for the small moments

Watching strangers on the train

warmed

give soft kisses

A cook singing as the radio

thrumming

plays because he loves that song

A girl laughing

airy

at a book she's reading

Me daydreaming

breathless

about his hands

on my aching skin

Just

for the little moments