I need to get a diary, the way I dream of his lips, mouth, tongue. The taste of them swirls like spiraling thoughts. Blueberry’s for sure. Socks chucked in room corners, keys spilling off the table. I open my eyes and you’re always there. Bluebonnet sky and starry nights. You pull closer I swear-I would swear.
-lost in thoughts but you aren’t really there.















