longing

 

i miss our sunday mornings

waking up slow, we linger in the sheets until the water we set to boil evaporates out of the pot. but that's okay because we'll just fill it up again and forget, again. 

and my lips are raw from kisses and the sun, and the chocolate chai tastes even sweeter because i'm drinking it out of the mug you gave me because you know how much i love the perfect kind of morning mug.

and even though the petals will wilt and fall, their floral scent lingers in my thoughts for your thoughtful knowing that bright colors would brighten my day. 

and the downstairs cat fights with you as i stretch my neck long, the sun making it's final descent. and you pull me in close while the music plays in the background and you touch your lips to mine like it's that first time. 

and sometimes i think it doesn't get better than this.