Two Door
Your warmth puts the morning hitting brown floorboards to shame Because of these years we’ve basked together I’ll never be the same I’m leaving this porch with the string lights still on and my jeans are covered in stains I hope time doesn’t wash them out I hope people ask me for the rest of my life where I got them I’ll talk about the Hall that became Home and a white picket fence we got to see covered in real life snow There’s always going to be wine on these jeans now Holy laughter spilled out of this home like the cheap white wine on my lap when my cheeks were wet with joy and I couldn’t help but pour a little onto myself from the cup that was overflowing There’s vodka sauce on my sweater most days but I guess now I’ll always remember the ways we made a little extra for dinner because one of us had a bad day (you can just have some of mine!) I think it’s cool that my jeans are worn out Scuffed from what we ran from and towards and covered in dust from the roads we got a little los
