I've no plans to write tonight
but the sound of your voice lingers
at the back of my mind—

quiet, shy, baritone
like I have never imagined.

A humid day, the sky's tears fall
in little, thin drops
and there you were—

know that I try
to be as honest as possible, but

You didn't look perfect at all.
your eyes were tired, hair slightly tousled—
were you sleeping in class?

That thought makes me chuckle—
you looked like a child in confusion.

You didn't look perfect at all.
maybe it's because Helios wasn't
caressing your face.

For now, we make do with sunlight
peeking through clouds of gray.

Have I mentioned
you look good in blue?
Maybe I will soon.

Later when my heart is still
and I can admit you make my soul ache.

But for now, I wait and wait
and honestly, darling,
I wouldn't mind waiting—

for you.

—2:12AM, 3 13