or maybe that's you.

my mouth is against your tan shoulder. your skin is so warm, even in this dark night where the cold seems to settle upon us like a heavy blanket, sending shivers up my spine.

or maybe that's you.


i'm breathing slowly, pretending to be asleep on top of you, just the way you like it. and i know you're singing that song just for me. you think i can't hear you. and your fingers are running through my hair like you can never get tired of the way it feels. and your breath is soft on my ear.


a thousand rainbow stars are erupting overhead and i'm missing the fireworks show that the heavens are playing for you and me, only so i can hear you sing to the beat of your heart in that soft voice that nobody knew existed but me. i might just melt into a puddle right here on your chest;

your voice is like honey, golden and smooth.



i could lay here forever, your lullaby rocking me to sleep on its wispy arms made of clouds and kisses. i can feel your fingers brushing my face and i know you're counting the freckles on my nose, etching into your memory the way i look when i'm asleep.



and the very earth seems to be swaying along; the grass is moving against my limp fingers. i can't wait any longer. my eyes open, and you seem surprised and embarrassed. you didn't know that i knew you can sing, and you thought that i didn't know the lullaby you wrote for me, the one thing that can make me peaceful enough to fall asleep beneath the stars.


or maybe that's you.