where's my lover with the melancholy face
who i brew a cup of coffee for before they wake
i dream of them in ways i can't translate
what future we might have is unsure but
when the time is right i know they'll be there
i see a little bit of them in everyone i have loved
how precious it is to be heldĀ
Comments
Displaying 0 of 0 comments ( View all | Add Comment )