The moment you notcied me was something of a dream,
something I would never expect,
becasue I was a mere moth in a garden of iridescent butterflies.

You woke me up at 6am on a summer morning, my oh my,
what a miracle, you worked a wonder,
you left your number,
so I left mine, and the dream froze.

Now I've been awake,
(the kind of awake where you have to stick toothpicks in your eyes to pry them open)
searching for signs of you everywhere.

The thing I want most is for that little blue light to appear so I know that we're both constantly pathetically thinking about each other.
I'm to shy to talk to you first,
and maybe you're sitting there too,
staring for the light on your phone,
like gatsby staring at the green light,
debating if its way to soon to text.

Please do, I don't want to be gatsby, staring for the light,
I want to have the privilege of seeing the light often
don't be afraid.

*12:21 the light hasn't appeared. Please think of me