Oh, baby, we're running outta time.

On my mind,
All the time,
Wondering if you'll be mine, again?
Oh, baby, we're running outta time.

Can this be, how it seems?
I was yours and you were on my team...
Now it feels as though you've left me be.
Oh, baby, we're running outta time.

I see you
And you see me
Can't you open up your eyes and see
Oh, baby, we're running outta time.

Shit My Boyfriend Says.

His speech is in BLUE, mine is in PURPLE.

 August 29, 2011:  At Trinity River, counting shooting stars.

"Can we be a singularity?"

**Note:  how could I have possibly said no, when asked like that?

While chatting in bed, he grows silent.  

"What's on your mind, love?"

"Vacuums."

"Like, Dyson, Hoover, DirtDevil?"

"What? No...like the absence of air, matter, emptiness.  Which do you think is the best shape for a vacuum?  A sphere or a cube?"

Goodbye, sleep.  Hello, discussion on a perfect vacuum.

Before calling it a night.

"You coming to bed?"

"Yea, let's do some Chemistry before bed."

"OK, can we wake up early tomorrow and do some Algebra?"

"Of course!"

**MORNING**

"I'm gonna shower, you make the coffee, I bring the math."

Where all the magic happens.

All sorts of nerdiness in our bedroom.

And I love it.

Eyes to the sky, feet on the ground.

Quiero regresar!

Cease and Desist.

It drops in and out, like an unannounced visitor.
Every one of its visits are unexpected and unwelcome.
Each time it says it'll be a short stay.
At least, the impositions are now further apart.
One day, these haunts will cease and desist.