1 a.m. and Home Alone...

How often I've fantasized of you being here.
You come to my door in the middle of the night, like a forbidden love.

I wear flannel shorts and an old t-shirt. you play with my hair
My cheek finds the perfect spot on your shoulder.
My lips barely but so....flawlessly grazing against your neck.

we talk of books, and movies,
of friends, and family
love,
loss,
everything.

we lay...never counting the minutes,
time..stops just then.
&  nothing else matters.
 la gioia di essere solo
(la delicia de estar solos)

It's 1 am...I am home alone....& .I fantasize of you my love, whoever you may be.


-dee.
<3