This little suite I call home is full of loneliness and love. I will miss nights, second-hand sheets and pasta covered in cheese. Putting on a blazer and pretending to be the sort of person who carries business cards. Falling asleep on the couch to the sound of you struggling with a paper.
That's still away, I know. So this summer I'll lie in your arms in a yellow school bus, it's smell reminiscent of street Spanish and truck stops. And I'll sleep here by myself, on my side. cradling a new life growing inside.
It will be happiness and heartbreak. And maybe both together.