implusive impulses

Last night I accidentally fell through a time portal and ended up at 6 months ago. It was lovely and familiar. I knew what to do. Now I’m back and as I got into bed I almost wished I could do it again but I’ve been told that time travel is only a freak occurrence, and I shouldn’t get emotionally attached to the past. Little traces left behind-little hairs and scents. I love it. The floor is sticky from the wine that was knocked over in a moment of ‘passion?’ or carelessness. Either/or

"Until the break of day, let me see you make him smile
His clothes are dirty but his hands are clean
And you're the best thing that he's ever seen"

I know it’s a cliché but sometimes you meet someone who fits like a glove. Now, I’ve tried hand-warmers and mittens and they’re just not the same. I’m scared you’ll miss my great moments but I just won’t settle for such a low offer. You must live in the infinite black that exists when I close my eyes. I see you when I fall asleep, I see you when I dream. Here's the sunrise on monday