Sunday Morning


Sunday morning sleeping til noon seems poetic. We’ll catch the late service online this week. Brunch in bed next would be most ideal; I’ll cook. Your favorite? Peanut butter pancakes topped with honey? How about a trade, I cook that for you and you reward me with the sweetest thing this world has to offer. Get ready for the cringe; your lips. Travelling the world, one might stop and admire such a work of artistic beauty like yourself. One might get lost in the little nooks and crannies you possess. Willingly of course.


If I were to see you in the street I might be frozen upon glance, just like the first time. Like a knight being presented with his adventure, I’d know what to do next. Conquer such a feat like garnering your attention. The attention so many before have given their lives for. So many before have fallen trying to completely contain. Too much, it was. They weren’t suitable anyway, I’m here for a reason right? Whether that be to teach you a lesson or bless you with the crown you so rightfully deserve. To christen you into the royal position of ruler of my heart.


Your presence acts as the most comforting of black holes, Falling into a void of utter fulfillment. The words, glances, and everything in between become comfortable inhibitors.


All the responsibilities of the upcoming week try their best to distract us from each other. Did they not know what we have is far too strong? Far too intoxicating. That whenever we’re together nothing else matters. Like that night at the club, with our friends, but it felt like it was just you and I. Fixated on the lips that sit in front of me, the hips that moved so elegantly, that smile that shined so bright. In the darkest of places, you might be that northern light. The hardest of times, you might be the motivation to pull through the other side.


I’m glad we met.

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