It is two in the morning when I feel your warm hands begin to massage my feet.
Two of us slumped over each other, tired-eyed, forgetting other life subsists
Two of us having night adventures that make us believe for a moment we are the only ones that exist
Two of us reminising about the past, enjoying the present, and fearing for the future
It is two in the afternoon when I see you have saved lunch for me
Two of us joining friends for a meal and a good laugh
Two of us arguing about nothing, then apoligizing when we know we have played too rough
Two of us looking forward to two in the morning