My eyes are heavy,
my breath go slow,
after 8 hours of sleeping
I think I need more.
My mind go restless
thinking of you.
My mouth go breathless
to hear about you.
Every action of inactivity leads to blues.
Yet when I raise, legs fall back to you.
I read between lines
to find traces of you.
And repeat your words to tell you did what you had to.
I can sip you in my wines,
I can live you in the nights.
Some days I revisit those places, some days I hate to.
All say it’s a phase,
that it shall pass,
and I’ll have something new.
They maybe correct,
but hard to believe when I can’t see past you.
Musings: Under Sun
aaumsy 