I want to feel myself falling asleep on your chest with your finger tips around my shoulders at 1:54. Inhale the thick air deeply and find comfort in knowing we are tangled in the same sheets.
I want to roll over in my bed at 3:27 and kiss your cheek. Watch your eye lids flutter open to see your lip curl into a half smile.
I want to wake up with you at 10:02 to make you coffee with too much sugar. Open the windows and listen to the chaos of the streets and neighbors as I wash dishes and you grab me by the waist.
I want to walk you down to the beach at 2:37 to watch you squint at the sun and watch your hair curl when the salt water hits it. Become jealous of the sand that sticks to your body even after the ocean tries to erase the grains.
Clocks can be a terrible reminder of the little time you know you have with left with someone.
But if every hand that reached out it’s fingers to the numbers on my watch was spent with you,
I wouldn’t mind not being able to tell time at all.
—  I can’t stop writing about you