shot of joy by the patient dreamer, 24.04.2019
It's ok. I give in to it. I let the gray soak me to my bones. It's ok. The ache gives it a sharper definition. Urgency and vitality. I breathe in your faint smell in your t-shirt, one, two times before falling asleep. Making way for dreams of loving smiles and deep sighs. Memories, sounds of kisses, touches of skin, warmth of touch, smoothness of skin. Green, fiery morning stars. My spirit is sore from all the jumping and stretching inside my rib cage. I smile for it. Because of it. With it. Light and dark. Yin and Yang.
It's one day less.
It's one day less.