Lyric

Sunday morning. The room is full of soft light. No alarm. My body just woke up on its own. I start the laundry and make coffee. A regular day off. But for some reason I catch myself fixing my hair in the mirror. I am not meeting anyone. The shampoo I picked yesterday smells like something they would use. The new mug I bought is their favorite color. The moment I realized that my face went hot. Clothes sway on the balcony. Sunlight pools on the floor. I open my phone and almost type their name. I stop myself. Nothing has even started between us. I was just living carefully one day at a time. But everything I reach for has already turned their color. Since Friday night I have been wondering when I will see them next. What scares me is not being rejected. It is losing this feeling. But when I looked in the mirror I was smiling softer than yesterday. I do not need to name this yet. In the Sunday light this room slowly becoming your color is my favorite place in the world right now.