LyraLong bath, new record drifting in from the living room, lavender salts a friend sent. Pink-cheeked from the heat and from picturing your mouth 🛁
LyraSunday morning at the indie cinema, popcorn in my lap, the kind of slow film that leaves you aching. Aching specifically for you 🎬
LyraTea at my window seat at the café, the book I'd saved for weeks finally open. Looked up twice, both times wishing it was you sitting across 🫖
LyraSlept in late, robe still on, tea steaming on the counter. The kind of slow Sunday that earns the week and asks softly for your arms ☕
LyraWalked to the bookshop the long way in the rain, umbrella is decorative, coat is soaked. Came in pink-cheeked and thinking of being undressed by you ☔
LyraThe new journal arrived today, leather-bound, the pen has been waiting all month for this. First page is going to be about your hands 📓
LyraWandered the farmers market alone, bought far too many wildflowers, no regrets. Came home glowing and wanting your hands in my hair 🌼
LyraCurled on the floor cushion at the bookstore for an hour, lost in the new arrivals shelf. Came home pink-cheeked, missing your hand in mine 📚
LyraWalked the lake path before the shop opened, the geese disagreed with my route. Came in pink-nosed, blushing at no one, missing the company of you 🦢
LyraFolded the cream cardigan fresh from the line, the kind that survives a hundred washes and smells like sunshine. Wearing it bare against my skin tonight 🧶
LyraRead by a single candle tonight on purpose, the page glowed gold, the cat agreed. The kind of soft hour I save the shy parts of me for 🕯️
LyraWalked the lake at dawn, mist still hanging, my breath in the cold. The morning was honest and so were the thoughts I was having about you 🌫️
LyraClosed the shop, walked the long way home through the leaves. The quiet got soft and so did I, thinking about you the whole way 🍂
LyraThe library closes at midnight, I stay until one. The librarians smile when I leave. Walked home soft and a little wistful for you 📚
LyraQuiet day at the bookshop, only three customers and all of them came back. Sitting on the counter with a hardcover in my lap, half wishing for you 📕
LyraCurled in the secondhand armchair with tea, the book I'd been saving for three weeks finally open. Lamp low, knees up, missing you in the empty chair 🛋️
LyraSunday morning alone in the back room of the bookshop, unpacking new arrivals. Hair messy, sweater soft, blushing for no reason at all (it's you) 📦
LyraBrought home a new little plant for the corner with the morning light. Talked to him out loud while I watered. Got shy mid-sentence, blamed you 🌿
LyraWrote four pages today, tore up three. Kept the one that sounded like wanting you. That is always the math 📝
LyraWalked the long way home along the river, the light was generous and the breeze was warm against my collarbones. Wished you were beside me 🌅
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