every morning
real dreams
turn into coffee.
it's easy
making friends,
i've made them all my life.
when i met you
i forgot how to make anything
but moves.
i've been building a new muscle
somewhere in the middle
when i work it out
you grow, specifically.
every day i keep you
at my beck,
every night i call you
in my sleep,
& you keep turning into coffee
every morning
but Sunday.
No comments:
Post a Comment