Your Collar

The door from the living room is closed

We decided

We didn’t want certain sounds interrupting our peaceful moment

But the washingmachine keeps murmuring

Branches are tapping against the windows

And there’s that familiar irritation within me that grows

Because we wanted silence

The soft sound of country music is playing in the background

I don’t care

Because I’m aware we both wanted that

It doesn’t take long before I roll up the sleeves of your blouse 

Because I think that suits you better 

And for you it doesn’t matter 

Because I know you’re smiling at me

I begin to stand on my toes because I need to roam my fingers onto the fabric of your collar


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