it is after midnight. the streets are silent. this is the part where we choose to believe we hold the world in the palms of our hands. everything is still and quiet, the night will pass by in a matter of hours but for now we hold it close, pretending the darkness will stay, that daylight will never break. then we climb onto the roof and sit cross legged. we whisper at times half afraid the neighbors will hear us but mostly we settle into a quiet comfortable silence. you lean towards me and tell me stories about your childhood, stories i have heard thousands of times but stories that warm my heart because you trust me with this part of you that you don’t open up to anybody else. in between you touch my hand lightly and point to the black sky, to the stars and to the moon that hides away itself for tonight.
i turn to you, i know your face by heart now and i know that months from now i would still want this, still want you
but is this enough to keep me from not wanting more