Given the chance to lay next to you, I’d curl up in a second.
Have you wrap your arms around me like paper to present,
morph our bodies in to a perfect crescent,
and make the moon believe she’s staring at her own reflection.
Then you’d whisper in my ear, “this is everything. this is perfection.”
And I’d coo in approval, unable to imagine anything more pleasant.
by: charvelle holder