That night, you slept over on the couch of my tiny bachelor apartment and in the morning, we stood on the balcony watching the sun rise. I asked you, why haven’t you stuck with anyone yet?

No Poem Is the Only Poem. No Story Is the Only Story. No Kings.
That night, you slept over on the couch of my tiny bachelor apartment and in the morning, we stood on the balcony watching the sun rise. I asked you, why haven’t you stuck with anyone yet?