the day gets longer and
night melts into tired playlists
under the faultering silhouette of doubt
and the knowledge i'm in love with
the idea of a man who once spent
the darker hours caught up
in a black flat sheet and the sincerity of
my arms, when these pages alone
induced a smile that said more
than 3 words whispered between
a kiss over a mixtape and
baby i fucking love you in
memories where i've left out
the imperfections of your failure
to grasp subtle communication
but
what i really mean to say is
six weeks of missing the blue
in your eyes
wears a girl down