Nostalgic melodies cause me to rise,
from the safe white, billowing sheets,
and the shared warmth of surrounding arms.
Aimlessly, I sway unsteady, on the forgetful memory foam,
legs wobbling, arms bending,
through the soft guitar filled air.
I glance, endeared,
blissed out smile and glazed eyes,
not love just happiness or content.
My feet falter and weight shifts,
back towards the whirling, dusty blades.
unsteady hands guide me to stability.
His skinkissed fingers switch off the fan,
and a bit of dust cascades down as it slows,
like a gentle grey snow leaving a sheen of powder.
My tiny, ivory fingers, reaching,
graze the low ceiling,
Like a blooming daisy, his flush against it.
It's like he's the room's support beam.
one arm up and one inviting me to hold on,
offering stability while my head rests on his chest.
Standing and swaying together,
I am taken back,
to the night we met.