orange carpet
fans on with the windows open
close your eyes and listen to the music
there's something in the way the beat plays
it makes you want to lie there forever.
you hear the humming and singing.
just you and the one you want to be with,
you don't want it to change
the air is stale and there's smoke near the ceiling.
life couldn't be more perfect
your mind usually races, but at this moment,
nothing else exists.
Friday, February 13
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