Late night scribblings
So, I happen to keep a journal by my bed (in case of emergencies, you see) and I woke up today with a very messy hodgepodge of words. I think it made sense at the time, but that doesn’t matter. I’ll share, for no reason in particular, the depths of my subconscious.
My love for you is in the dirty dishes, Soaking, a promise It's the sound of the old door closing behind your routine. It's the passing of our mutual silence into eternity ticking, ticking away our lives. It's you brushing your teeth, At 3:17 AM It's the unconditional phone call, The late night rap on your door. The fabric of our kinship