Wednesday 24 April 2019

I woke up an hour earlier than I needed to today. Looked out of the window. Sky was grey. When you say you're falling in love, what do you mean? That the plants, trees and animals suddenly convey more? That bus rides you take riding by the window warm your heart like never before? I want you to look out of the window and think of me. I want to be the window, seat, floor, handrails, the stop button you press. I want to be the bus stop where you get on and the bus stop where you get off. I want to be the pavement you step on, the tyres on the road I want to be the hankie you use when you blow your nose. I want to be yours: now, tomorrow, in ten years time. I want to look at you and see you shine.

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