little things that will never be

there is a suffering of the little things that will never be 

the smile under the covers 

in a rainy afternoon 

the good night kiss 

the touch of your lips 

with my toe, just because it is something I can do, and it can annoy you

the smiles, many types of smiles 

the games to play inside

and outside 

the stories 

the hopes and dreams that hold together your arms inside my arms 

the genuine desire 

the candle that my light would unlight. 

The way I would whisper and scream all of a sudden and the way that the sun would postpone its appearance just to give us one more moment of not being. 

The way I would forget about the world outside, just to reunderstand it differently afterwards.

The way you would stop planning, for a little while. The way you would just be amazed by your impact on my being, on my body, on my soul and the other way around.

The way I would need to disipate. The way you would dissappear, more painful more clear your dissappearance than anything else before. 

little things that happen below the surface, below the yellow lines of day to day.

When you let your soul wonder, where does it take you? 

The little things that can never be. Those hurt as the sun on a red skin, mid day.