Tried turning it off, Closing the door and running; It is always on
It’s always nice to hear your voice Catch up like we’ve known each other forever Only having been close enough to touch In midsummer night’s dream Tempting fate and taunting providence A Rhodes Scholar on a mission from mars What impossible journey is this? The study of passion Still stretching my wings
Itchy fingers tap, Clicking keys, unlocking thought; Something’s happening.
“It’s getting late,” she said bleary eyed. A lone ringlet fell over her eyes. He brushed it back gently, curling it over her ear. “I know,” he replied, repeating, “I know.”
Upon my lap - cat, Has curled to gather the warmth; Preventing movement.