title from some love, which is one of my favorite songs from last year ♡
Home in whispers, the flit from note to note, breath breaking in the middle. Home in the mistakes, the back pats and hugs that follow. Chocolate cupcakes slightly burnt sometimes, sometimes perfect.
Shoulders together - not pressed together, not even touching. Just side by side, the presence felt and enough. The narrow bed for her narrower frame.
“Not as pretty as you.”
“Not as beautiful as you.”
The sunny afternoons on every third weekend. A jazz band had played in the park once, and they’d felt good. Dresses and sunhats that seemed to go just right, their fingers laced lightly. A breeze.
Home in the way she misses her, her forever friend. The sun retreating behind clouds, an excuse to kiss her shoulder. The sun back in defiance, so she can see her faint flush, the way her nose scrunches in embarrassed satisfaction.
Worrying about their youngest after everyone else is asleep. Home in her eyes when gets dead serious. Her sensible braid, straight-legged mom jeans. Home in her defense. Home in the way their palms kiss.
Noraebang lights in her hair, polka dot skirt ironed crisp to her knees. Three shots, four. Home in how they gravitate close without it being conscious. Lyrics to each other, loud laughter, bottle working the months off. The off-the-shoulder doing something. They could kiss and kiss, and they both know it, so they talk about it. Home in how it’s never complicated. Home in a promise, arms crossed over each other’s, temples touching, mouth so close. A promise like a vessel, floating on their sigh-riddled breath. A promise slightly damp with their sweating hands, the fan whirling on the ceiling.
Home in the seat behind her on the plane, next to her in the studio, under the blanket with her when lights finally go out.
Home where she is.
Home where she -
mousapelli, you've got the floor ✨