Those Sunday Mornings

Those Sunday Mornings

When everything just seems to fall right into place

And you don’t feel out of place

As you replace the weekdays’ rush with a warm and fuzzy brush

Over your face that still attempts

To come to senses and redemps

The whole sunshine, the belated moon and the morning stars

As the coffee flavour floods the entire room

Bringing some taste to such a view

And grounds the feeling of you

And me…

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