"I think we all speak a different kind of language than each other,
but you sound a whole lot like coffee on a Sunday morning
and the rain is falling bitter against the windowpane and your elbows are making holes in the countertops,
and I only want to tell you that I wish I was as close as the threads of your
t-shirt,
and if I can’t be that,
then I’ll be content withdrinking my drink beside you,
with the rain sloppy open mouth kissing the roof,
trying to dismantle the etymology of a conversation that falls out of the realm of words."
and if I can’t be that,
then I’ll be content withdrinking my drink beside you,
with the rain sloppy open mouth kissing the roof,
trying to dismantle the etymology of a conversation that falls out of the realm of words."
- Shinji Moon, He Loves the Rain
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