I need a Sunday kind of love
A love that starts my life
The days with the light breezes that blow old letters back into your memories
The “use to be” times
Times when “she” was there
When living was only about moments
I want to go back to Sundays
Days that never got too hectic
Never moved too fast
And aromas of hot meals and jasmine fields blessed your nose
When you didn’t have to remember
Because
memories were happening every second
Sometimes I just lay in the soft green grass
Not as green as it use to be
But still as soft as yesterday
I turn up the days of jazz in my head
Let my mind skip in the shade of sparse clouds
And sleep silently in the days of Sunday