Unfaded.

You’re way ahead by now, a million miles into the river that leads you back home. My heart is spread too thin, fluctuating between wanting you and craving the death of every feeling you birthed in me. I’m way behind by now, walking down streets where you have sung drunken promises, only to whisk them…

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Sundays are for lovers*

Come lie down next to me, my fingers drawing circles in the palm of your hand, your ear against my beating heart, your lips drawing breath from my lungs. Curl up against my waist and fit into my curves like the gods have created your body solely for mine. The sun comes in through light…

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