morning.


that magical moment when you come outside and look around and for some random reason you can now make the distinction between last night and tomorrow. except you’re in between the two. perfectly present, spanning the expanse of the night’s experiences and the morning’s realizations.


and i just lie there, staring across the pillow at your eyes, waiting for you to wake up…


standing in the open blue of a deserted parking lot staring at the waxing moon in the fog.


one word:


open.


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