091: At the Edge of Her Sleeve
Your smile clings to her sleeve, but she doesn't see it. She's talking to someone else, while you sit under a tree on the other side of the park. You see her hair glimmer in shades of gold and blonde, and you see her laugh. Once you laughed like that too. It's imprinted in the seam at the edge of her turtleneck-sleeve, just where you kissed her good bye that morning.
Sitting in the armchair with a cup of coffee, she had stretched her arms up over her head. While she was busy yawning, you pressed your lips to the inside of her wrist and tasted her rose infused body wash. Then you slipped out of the apartment, leaving your key on the table. Her yawn and the taste of rose stayed in a corner of your heart.
Now you watch her. Even from a distance, her laugh brings you warmth.
Written by: Katrine H. (@katrinehjulstad on Instagram)
Sitting in the armchair with a cup of coffee, she had stretched her arms up over her head. While she was busy yawning, you pressed your lips to the inside of her wrist and tasted her rose infused body wash. Then you slipped out of the apartment, leaving your key on the table. Her yawn and the taste of rose stayed in a corner of your heart.
Now you watch her. Even from a distance, her laugh brings you warmth.
Written by: Katrine H. (@katrinehjulstad on Instagram)
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