"I fell in love with the morning, how you stumbled out of bed when you first woke up, and how your eyes groaned with exhaustion. The way your hands grasped my hipbones while your lips stole the endings of my sentences. Every day with you felt like a month of Sunday mornings with white bed sheets and lazy smiles. That same morning, I fell in love with the coffee shop down the street, and how you asked for two sugars, but you actually meant three. The walk home from your house made me remember what Monday mornings feel like. Somewhere in between falling in love with our midnight conversations that were exhaled through cigarette breaths and interrupted with coffee stains, and reading the love notes you had written on my flesh, I realized, I am in love with the presence of your words and the feel of your existence. But I am not in love with you"
Posted on: Mon, 16 Sep 2013 17:40:29 +0000
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