Til these hours that we share, disappear in the morning air
Those hours we get to share are some of the best hours I have. Â If they weren’t so perfect, I wouldn’t feel like there are never enough of them. Â And I probably wouldn’t need to keep coming back for more after all these years.
But all those nighttime hours, they always come to an end.  I watch the clock as each episode of Bubbles in the Think Tank ticks toward the end, wondering what I can do to stay there longer just so I can fondle you with frivolity until the morning comes…and passes.
Maybe next time. Â Would it be so wrong to extend our silliness together beyond just the night?
I guess that’s what the archives are for.
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