maybe I like the quiet of my footsteps when I walk down the hallway alone
maybe I like the caress of the cold wind on my cheek
and maybe I like the electric feel
of things that are yet to be
maybe I like the quiet of my footsteps when I walk down the hallway alone
maybe I like the caress of the cold wind on my cheek
and maybe I like the electric feel
of things that are yet to be
Did we miss the morning?
Somewhere between warm Autumn nights and coffee tinged afternoons I lost something.
Autumn would bring the warmth of the leaves and the blow of the breeze and the chill of Christmas would come in unexpectedly with the night air.
My heart would be warm and full with promises of lights cascading and dinners and stoves and friends with their laughter
somewhere between this city and the stars I lost something and I don’t know what it is.
Autumn leaves scatter past me in the wind and I walk into my lit apartment – the clean, empty bed a gentle reminder of the fact that I’m alone
and as the scent of a mahogany wood fire crackling with spices picks up in the air, I wish there was someone coming home.
My half eaten apple sits atop the counter and I glance there, thinking about how nice it would be to have you sitting next to me on the couch, laughing.
I’d climb into your arms and the warmth of your smile would melt it all away.
There’s nothing like biking down the Seine at sunset on your own. Headphones on, the city of light comes to life. At every turn a sparkling glow breathes life into the streets where Parisians walk, unaware of the magic in their sky. For the first time, I’m my own again.