Sunday.

I want this so much.

There are so many reasons why this should not or could not happen.

I tell myself I will not let this happen.

I wont laugh, smile, touch, give you any idea that this is an option.

But then I see you, and like ice cream in the sun, I am a puddle.

Laying melted on the floor

I touch your strong arm, laugh at your jokes, smile with both my mouth and eyes.

I am a goner.

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