Sometimes

the sand tilts in our lonely jar

your eyes reflection is swayed by the glass

your curly brown hair

wrap it around my finger

the darkness between our skin

it all sucks out of my brain like a thought

your lips slowly brushing mine 

I see you through the bookshelf on the otherside

I'm opening my eyes to you above me in bed

I'm turning around but you aren't there

Everytime I see you

I open my eyes again

but you aren't there.

-art