I love you.
I loathe leaving you so I refocus on good times…
I love you again.
You are comfort & I am chaos…
Some yang, some yin…
Low tide, full moons,
selfish line: Your presence exists to comfort mine.
Admittedly, I feel the distance….
like a tingle through my spine, the instant that we disconnect, it’s so sequential, similar to a heartbeat, I start to sweat….
Yet I feel no discontent. I know our present distance is not preset.
When conveniences collide… a course to your core is set….
The Bedside Turmoil