Notes - metaphorically sensitive abstract thing. and implied sex.
they crash into the world like stars on fire, electricity thick in the thin space between their bodies. and they blend like silhouettes into the dark, and she's almost convinced that this is love. this. is -
a whisper, a lingering kiss on skin, and the silver shell in the sky
sliding between them.
a piece of heaven. clouds. a bit of the atmosphere. silk and sheets and beauty beauty beauty.
this is beautiful.)
she doesn't know how. foreign is the terrain: the curve of their backs and the indentations in their skin, the flesh and bone and blood pounding and warmth. hands to herself; her hands are useless. she can't and won't because art and perfection are not meant to be touched. no, no,
and there's sun and midnight, on her left and right, and they treat
her like glass.
breakable and translucent and colorful like sugar pieces and frost.
a pristine glimmer and are you sure, are you?)
this is what it feels to be broken. nerves ecstatic and shaking and tense and -
roars. and she can't think straight. is it her blood or her heart in
this is what it feels like to breathe. to blend. to disappear with stars in the skies, in her eyes, on their skin. lying beside each other, line after line, hands entwining and legs curling and maneuvering, and nothing is -
(perfect. this this this is perfect.)
- uploaded 070806 -
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