yinthe

“My soul pours out without end, like melancholy water,”

“What did my fingers do before they held him? What did my heart do with its love?”

“don’t get me wrong, i’m an independent person. but i quite like the idea of waking up in the middle of the night with your arm wrapped around me. not protecting me, just holding me. and when i can’t sleep, i get to admire you. i can hold my breath until our heartbeats are in sync or maybe i can kiss the scar above your lip. i can count the freckles on your arms like i am an astronomer mesmerized by the stars in the sky. i can guess where your dreams are taking you by studying your wavering smile or fluttering eyes. and when i do fall asleep, i will dream about you, the last thing my eyes saw before i gave into the exhaustion. and when i wake up, the first thing i will see is you. maybe you will still be sleeping soundly holding onto me, or maybe i will catch you admiring me, too.”