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» Lost in the see-through: Longing
I.
I would kiss your nub of collarbone
and trail my lips down your salt-
solid spine, tracing the words
“all my days remaining”
in the hallow of your back.
And before morning, we could ignite a fire
greater than any planets’ suns.
II.
What are words
but a means of conjuring up flesh?
Notes
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lairiel reblogged this from walkinonclouds
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