I'll hold your hand through the wizened wrinkles; even if your beautiful mind will eventually crinkle. Crinkled & crumpled into creases too deep for sunshine to peek through. (My fingertips will still slowly but surely fix it.)
Even when the hair tickling my bare shoulders, collarbones & necks on lazy sunday morning is no longer quite the same.
I'll be right here.
Hey hey hey! :') Whoo. I wrote this after I discovered a strand of white in my hair. I WAS SO SHOCKED. I MEAN, I am not even at the age to HAVE white hair. :') Anyhoo, how have you been darling readers? xo