you’re probably fast asleep right now as you often are, your soft head thudding against the pillowcase and sinking into a whirlwind of dream. i begin to think of how things are, and how things might be.
you seem like the kind to want to hold hands under the table, the kind to listen to loud dubstep with friends but quiet sad music at night when no one else is there. a ‘i watch hum tv dramas with my mum because it makes me happy to spend time with her’ kind of person, and i bet our first kiss will be a messy turmoil of mouth on mouth, wide eyes and ‘what the fuck dude i wasn’t ready’.
i have a feeling you’ll show me the celestial bodies in your heart before ever exposing the black holes in your mind and i’ll try desperately to reach for something that’s terribly apprehensive to newcomers.
maybe i’ll memorise the squint of your eyes and the curve of your lips like math formulae before we ever even begin holding hands and perhaps, you’ll be none of this and instead part of a reality i have yet to discern. a reality i can’t fathom but damn, a reality i want to live.
you’ll taste like fire but feel like home and i’ll desperately try to savour each kiss like it’s the last i’ll ever get. i’ll love you while you crouch in the shadows and i’ll help you find your way into the light. fuck, you are the light. it is you and it has always been you.
and one day, maybe i will trace these very words into the small of your back on another lazy afternoon while your soft head thuds against the pillowcase.