its you
the morning soft light the dew of the air the messy of the hair the blur of the eyes the steam of the tea the sweet of the bread and theres you existing in the same existence as me messy hair unfreshen face watery eyes and somehow my eyes fix to your smile to how you carry yourself to how your eyes blink to how you smell your coffee before you sip to how a bit of bread touch your lips to how your skin glisten to the morning air its a magic to my eyes
