Playing it safe.

I feel a foot, feet and toes. We wake up downstairs, upon a couch too small for two beings. I squint and turn to you, awake with eyes closed daydreaming of possible ceilings.

I look for my shirt, but I slept in it. Without bottoms on you is making me smile, my lip is bit, is this it?

I stumble towards the kitchen, stubbing my toes. Rubbing my eyes I talk to inanimate objects, you mumble about minding my toes.

After tea it’s coats and arms, outside it’s cold so wrap up warm you remind me. I realise this air is different, we are by the sea. The bus is late, but time is a wonderful gift for me and you.

The ticket machine takes my change without apology, I call it a bitch with a tad too much misogyny. You tell me to risk it, you whisper; “don’t be like all the rest”. “Playing it safe isn’t for the best”.

“Playing it safe isn’t for the best”. “Playing it safe isn’t for the best”. Say it with a smile, sing it with a smile.

I pick up the phone but you don’t pick up, I fall onto the couch to reminisce. The smell on my shirt collar is an intoxicating mist. All I can feel is your breathing in my ear and your feet hugging mine. It seems everything turned out ok.

I dreamt a dream of taking you to another world, far far away and blue and brilliant. We would write history together all because playing it safe is never for the best. Take me to another world, make me stories and we won’t have to wake on a couch like all the rest.

“Playing it safe isn’t for the best”. “Playing it safe isn’t for the best”. Say it with a smile, sing it with a smile. “Playing it safe isn’t for the best”.