home

I look at you and wonder how someone can beat the ease of the wind. For someone who portrays them self as a wound to the world, you walk with remarkable grace. I look at your arms, oh God, they remind me of velvet clouds. and as tempting as it is to jump right into them, I have this urge to plunge the depths of my chest, curl my fingers around my trembling heart and strip it entirely from these strings, to be carefully placed in the palm of your coarse hands. I waive my right to apologize for every gaze into your lucid eyes, but they have become my favorite place to visit. i search for peace in your vaults of heaven swirled into a grassland, just to marvel at the sunset you`ve been hiding beneath your vessel. no wonder you never cease to fill me with warmth. and for the longest time I thought it was the gates of your smile, but it was the melody of your vocal cords that brought back that remembrance of where home actually is.

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