Sometimes It’s A Place

Our feet softly pad back and forth on the cold floor, but your chest pressed to mine keeps me warm. There’s no music playing but there’s a rhythm to our hearts beating that has a sound like the most beautiful orchestra I’ve ever heard, and when you hum along to it it’s hard to believe we’re two separate people.

The kitchens yellow lighting gets our shadows silhouetted on the wall and if I could pin it there forever, I would.

In the quiet of this little space, the time on the oven shining 2am, I feel home.

You are home.


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