Drifting,
Like you always do,
That carefree distance,
We could be afraid, laugh too much,
It’s the unknown, and the mud between our toes,
You carry my things in your bag,
I’ll drop what I have collected, through holes in my pocket,
It works out like that,
I love you out of habit now,
Reading quietly outside your kitchen,
Watching you dance at the top of the hill,
Holding your hand on the big ride,
I’m quiet sure that,
You’re never getting rid of me.