I imagine a life with you
But I'm still dreaming of him
I want your children
Running around our house
Jumping on our bed
Sunday morning regret
Homemade waffles
From hungover hands
But it'll all be worth it
Because I know
Even then, years from now
There will still be stars in  your eyes
When my hair is a mess
And my clothes are littered with holes

I imagine our wedding day
The invitations with calligraphy
Engraved in deep ink
And how I can't bring myself
To dare write his name
With my hungover hands
And I don't tell you this
But I still dream up his face
When I'm kissing your lips
And I wish I could stop
But my heart is a mess
And his eyes never shined
Nearly as bright as yours
But they were deep enough
Kashmir quick sand
And I'm still stuck
Dreaming of him, my dear

I wish I was sorry.