Tired Whimsy


I want to memorize the smell of you in the morning,
Soft and quiet and rounded out
With an uncalculated wanderlust for dreams

I want to find a clearing with you
And lay on our backs with our arms outstretched
Trying to brush heavy wisteria weighing from supple branches
Pretending that they are amethyst stars
In our own personal galaxy

I want to know you late into the night
Sitting barefoot on a hardwood floor
Sipping on cheap wine that results in puckered faces
And heads swimming in crimson bliss

I will start with memorizing your smell in the morning

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