i like having you around, i love watching you sleep – wondering if your eyes are really closed while you reach for my little hand. i feel safe when i'm with you even in the dark. the sheets were too wrinkled and everything was silent. i told myself, this is it – this is what i want, i want to see and feel this for the next seventy years of my life. i want to fall asleep after laughing and crying with you, even after a bad day, and after everything silently folds underneath. i never wrote about love and agreed about what i said until i wrote about you. every trace and metaphors would feel like gloves you would try on. it fits, it makes sense and it belongs to you and only to you. the hours and everything around us shifts in proximity and was beautifully orchestrated in the air. i want to stay here, i want this again tomorrow, i want you again tomorrow and would still want you the day after tomorrow and the next, and the next.