16 April 2016

I wish I could write a poem about
how the moonlight hits your face at 3am
when we're laying in your bed,
or the way your hair falls perfectly 
beside your galaxy coloured eyes,
or about how as tuas sardas 
formam pequenas constelações no teu nariz, 
or the way you slowly part your lips 
right before you kiss me and how 
you shake me to my very core when you finally do,
porque quando me beijas consigo sentir a stardust
de que fomos feitos, quando o tempo começou.
You're my own little universe,
I could watch you be you for hours.




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