There are things, little things I never imagined desiring this much. Things that before meeting you were meaningless, things that before discovering this powerful song in me that only you know the melody to never resonated.
I imagine standing in the kitchen cooking, the kitchen of our house. I imagine arranging things, things for our table, a big picnic table in our backyard overlooking our pool. I imagine dancing to music, as our clock strikes closer to your arrival time. I imagine how nothing could compare to the sound of your keys opening the door to our house followed by little footsteps ready for my embrace.
As I sit here imagining all these little things, I wonder how a keyhole can be the center of everything I desire.
Descriptive Sentiments 