When we're grown ups,
bedtime will be togethertime.
No more long goodnights
in frozen air,
with numbing lips
and tousled hair.
Your bed and my bed
will be the same location
where our dreams will entwine
the way our legs will.
Our clothes will inevitably mix
in the generations-old dresser
whose top drawer I'll
struggle to reach.
Can you feel it?
We're grown-ups, almost.
Not quite.
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