wasted daylight

Water color clouds bleed across

the azure page as your

thought inch up my spine

like ink.

The ghost of your fingertips

brush past my wrist,

down my palm,

nesting on my nail beds.

Do you remember?

Wasted days

sitting in twisted sheets,

sipping scalding coffee,

mussing my hair,

mapping your back

with eager hands 

exploring

learning

yearning.

The daytime 

sparks and scalds our skins.

so we stay in.

Huddled in each other,

until the moon called me home.

She wears your face now,

obscured by clouds,

she's made brighter,

as you made me. 

Irony, no?

Wasted time, enjoyed,

was not wasted.

I still waste daylight with 

you by my side. 

EmJ

via WeHeartIt

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