I love lace and coconut rum. Late nights and windy bridges

Blurry train rides and scribbled poetry. I live along fault lines.
The fiery heat always kept me warm.

But you make me want to live in your sweatshirts
Like tea in the morning
Rainy day kisses and warm naps.

You’re comfortable. Not because your hands are soft (they are)
or in the way your hair falls across your forehead.

But it’s how I’d like to bottle your smile and wear it like a blanket.
And cope and paste your arms around my waist.

You’ve made me content with sleeping away from the edge

It scares me to think your touch asks me to undo my bed
To leave and live elsewhere

But maybe that’s what I was waiting for.

Someone to tell me that the crashing and burning I feel asleep to at night
Didn’t have to be all I knew.

And so I lie here. Waiting to hear the new sounds of the night.

The ones you’ve hesitantly fed through my speakers
The ones that make me want to stay. Forever.