Dear Pale Boy, I’ll sit beside you In the rushing tide A foamy white and blue Feet in the sand Stormy grey sky Holding your hand While you ask me why Someone like you Could ever be loved I’ll respond with a kiss And a gentle touch Your goose down hair Soft and white Twirled between my fingers While you hold on tight Pale smooth hands And rose dusted cheeks Swaying palm leaves Distant mountain peaks Rain drops on your nose Your jacket keeps us warm Waiting for grey clouds to pass I’ll hold you in the storm
it's past 12 midnight -and that should just be okay given with my quarantine body clock, but i haven't slept for the past 36 hours: -i walked around the city, -i exhausted my brain with responsibilities, -i distracted myself with hobbies, but i just can't seem to sleep.
it's amazing how overthinking really rallies with your mind, and how it affects your whole biological being. it's amazing how, one brief moment with a stranger, bugs me like this.
What if it rained indoors? Whenever we heard distant thunder or the weather report said rain then we would pick up all our things, go outside and sit and wait for the drops to stop falling from the ceiling.
Would we sleep in houses, still? If the roof was like a cloud and woke us up at 3 am instead of a pattering at the window, a pattering on our face?
We could make buildings just for this, and when it started pouring we would form lines, hoping to get inside to take a shower in the rain singing songs and goofing off.
What if it rained indoors? Whenever we felt a tiny drop we would build a comfy pillow fort with blankets, snacks and giggles and cuddle till the morning.