Mar 2021
Are you cold tonight?
Do your eyes envy the rain?
If only Noah's Flood, could wash and drown these longings all away; then I would dance with you, my love, beneath the rising waves.
Tomorrow isn't ours, but tonight, I'll message you thrice as much as I could write; of how I'd hold you closely, and closer, on another Sunday night.
I imagine you cocooned within your blanket, covered from head to toe. Your glasses are on the bedside table, frosted and clouded by the cold.
There's nothing quite like your voice, and that way that your happiness seems to flow; your heart is the thing that I want most to hold... to keep and shelter, and to share with you my own.
Do your eyes envy the rain?
If only Noah's Flood, could wash and drown these longings all away; then I would dance with you, my love, beneath the rising waves.
Tomorrow isn't ours, but tonight, I'll message you thrice as much as I could write; of how I'd hold you closely, and closer, on another Sunday night.
I imagine you cocooned within your blanket, covered from head to toe. Your glasses are on the bedside table, frosted and clouded by the cold.
There's nothing quite like your voice, and that way that your happiness seems to flow; your heart is the thing that I want most to hold... to keep and shelter, and to share with you my own.
