When we wake on Saturday morning,
Maybe he wont send me home.
Maybe,
He’ll spend the whole day with me.
Then I’ll stay Saturday night,
And wake,
Just in time to see him watching me sleep.
In that moment,
I think he really loves me.
But then,
He gets out of bed,
Leaves me alone,
With only the indentation of his bodies mark,
And only a pillow to hold.
Then again,
When he touches my face,
Or plays with my hair,
I think he’s happy,
I think he’s in love.
I’ll stay this happy for the rest of my life,
If you consider this happy at all.
