Tuesday, December 2, 2008


Isn't it odd, my love?
The world is turning cold and grey
But you somehow stay warm and your cheeks get rosier.
How does the heat spark and crackle off your skin?
You are an anomaly.
Your arms are like blankets filled with feathers and balls of cotton.
I want you to pull me so close that I get crushed into of you.
I'd be content to live in your hollow ribcage 
With my head inside your chest.
I'd always be close to your heart.
And we would truly be one.

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