Sleeveless.

Holding the pillow with barely
any force from my fingertips,
stretching my fair-skinned legs out
as far as I can reach,
but there is still space to be occupied
and everything out my eyes
are restless for I see the clock-
2:39 am is the time where dreamers
don't want to write, they want to live
in his eyes.

Something is keeping me from sleep and
I wonder if it is you, crawling under midnight
while a whole city is content with mediocrity
but you search for
sparks and truth.

And we would sway, without knowing if there's
a wind or without feeling symphonies of warm
rain,

and I would see me in you.

My arms would embrace the friend I always
imagined never leaving or growing apart from,
as classes shared together among many
footsteps would become a transfiguration of the past-

my arms, sleeveless for the first time in
front of the world,
expressing what words cannot say in
ink without heavy splotches
distributing on bare
paintings.

I am overflowing with love....
is who you are who I am?

-
7/06/13; finished writing @ 2:45 AM.