We stand on the dock,
The sun has set,
But I can see your happiness
Even in the dead of night.
The streetlight's on,
The metal is all rusted
And covered in salt,
And you push me up against it.
The metal cool on my skin,
Cooler than the water
When we dip the tips of our toes in,
Laughing about nothing at all
And I think I can get used to this.
I.
A small brush of fingers,
Biting your lips to stop a smile,
Choking on the words,
Dancing late under streetlights,
Everything could change with one slip,
Find my waist, feel my heartbeat,
The puzzle's missing a piece,
It's not an important one;
just some small piece in the middle.
It's dark purple, and rough on the edges,
It's under the floorboards,
all frayed, and torn apart;
i'm looking through the boxes shoved in the corner of the attic
and i come across an old one marked random,
doesn't look like anyone's been through it,
but I start...
and i find that photograph;
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