Sweet Nothings
by Addison Callahan
These are the days we'll remember,
hours spent with legs entangled in one another on a bean bag,
twisted and curves like ivy along the walls of a house,
we sit together in a bean bag,
being swallowed up in its wake like a boat in a sea storm,
we stare at the light cast on the ceiling through prism facets of the windows,
painting rainbows along the panels of the wall,
a breeze blows in through the open window,
softly whispering of the joys of summer soon to come,
our hands intertwine and rest on our legs,
they lay there light as air yet ground us to this spot like an anchor,
we pass many hours here talking and just letting ourselves be,
these are the sweet nothings we will remember on the bad days,
the days were your boss calls you in and gives you a bad performance review,
the days when your parents won't stop calling and nagging you to go to that great aunts birthday party who you swear you have never met in your life,
for the days when you wake up looking for sunshine but only find storm clouds,
for those days when your best just isn't good enough,
this are the days when we will return to the times of sweet nothings
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