The cold sheets are crying for you. Every inch of the house have traces of your being. Don't let it fade.
The walls long to hear the sighs of sweet joys. Don't let them forget our music.
The couch has gone cold and needs your warmth. The telly is being watched but prefers watching you.
Of lying beside you, of being watched while I sleep, of sweet nothing's whispered. Come back soon
1 comment:
he felt the same. he traveled from across the countryside, he longed to be back home. he was a mess. he wanted to be bac home, to the familiar voice, the fragrance he made his own. he braved the cold and the icy rain and landed at yr doorstep. after a cold dark night, he came back home...
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