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Forever in a heartbeat, beat, beat; a thousand heartbeats; a thousand forevers. Somewhere the sunbeams catch your hair alighting gently like sparrows at the tips, turning each fly-away in turn a subdued golden hue which radiates softly from your eyes. Quiet sighs echo through the sheets; Good morning, my love. Unhurried, unworried; Let's spend the day here. Fading in and out, in and out of consciousness to the sound of you breathing beside me; waking up to feel your arms loosely pulling me back. It's still too early yet; though the sun has long since turned dark. A crooked smile—the most beautiful thing I have ever seen— and your voice telling me to Dream sweetly. We'll eat in the morning. Morning comes to rain; rain falls to autumn. Beside me a yellow slip on the pillowcase reads I don't love you. I smile and listen for the sound of your footsteps. I hear you, whistling tunelessly, and you call to me; Have you woken yet? As I meet you in the kitchen I find your eyes and silently shake my head. I suppose one more day couldn't hurt.
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Sep 7, 2010
Sep 7, 2010 at 4:53 PM UTC
forever
Forever in a heartbeat, beat, beat; a thousand heartbeats; a thousand forevers. Somewhere the sunbeams catch your hair alighting gently like sparrows at the tips, turning each fly-away in turn a subdued golden hue which radiates softly from your eyes. Quiet sighs echo through the sheets; Good morning, my love. Unhurried, unworried; Let's spend the day here. Fading in and out, in and out of consciousness to the sound of you breathing beside me; waking up to feel your arms loosely pulling me back. It's still too early yet; though the sun has long since turned dark. A crooked smile—the most beautiful thing I have ever seen— and your voice telling me to Dream sweetly. We'll eat in the morning. Morning comes to rain; rain falls to autumn. Beside me a yellow slip on the pillowcase reads I don't love you. I smile and listen for the sound of your footsteps. I hear you, whistling tunelessly, and you call to me; Have you woken yet? As I meet you in the kitchen I find your eyes and silently shake my head. I suppose one more day couldn't hurt.
Heather Butler; 2010
heather-butler
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Sep 7, 2010
Sep 7, 2010 at 4:53 PM UTC
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