Picture This
You call me on one random night.
And I answer.
You tell me you're sorry for leaving and it was a mistake.
Just as I had hoped.
Because how could you forget when we were in my room, laying on my bed.
Tracing your fingers with my finger tips.
Sharing secrets and the journeys we have made until we found eachother.
Your face looked beautiful under my fairy lights in my bedroom.
Remember, March ninth?
Your face will look even better standing at my door under my porch light.
Maybe this picture was just a dream.
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