colour leached brain bleached feelings are in slow motion and faraway. there's a chill in the air and i feel the cold tendrils creeping round my ankles. my forehead aches with wanting the cold...
it's a learning time. it's a forgetting time. time is such an immovable concept.. everything changes, but everything stays the same. meet me in the crook of my elbow and i'll tell you some tender tales of longing, we can sing songs of contentment or we could just watch the sunrise with our bodies touching and breathing in their own rhythm.
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