by gurdeepmattu

It’s different than it was before
But it’s you I’m still thinking of

— Toy

In the gaps, on the Seine, in your polka dot, with your ruby red lipstick, and the golden hair strangling my dreams:

In the gaps, with a little hand, eagerly tucked into mine, you held on and drew my motive force

In the gaps, of an airbed in Hackney, as close to heaven as I’ve been, hanging on to hold off the incumbent dawn

Yes, we left a pretty mess of frozen heartstrings


Slow l y